Corruption of a Newlywed, Pt. 05

Corruption of a Newlywed, Part 5

This is the fifth part of the descent of a young wife, Amy, into cheating on her husband with the man he hates the most. I suggest reading the first four parts before this.

Apologies for the long delay before this most recent chapter. Sometimes life gets in the way.

If you didn't like the previous parts, or you don't like stories about bullies, cheating wives, or reluctance, you're unlikely to enjoy this, so save yourself the read.

Trigger warnings for reluctance/coercion, cheating, and partner humiliation.

***

Part 5

Oh my God. Amy Howell gaped at the sex toy that had been stuffed inside her for the last ten hours; now stood on her bathroom sink, coated in a thin, slippery white film of her own juices.

Tony had called it a 'pussy plug', and though it was phallic in nature, it looked neither like a man's penis nor like any butt-plug she'd ever seen in pictures. Instead it looked like it had been designed ground-up to fit the interior contours of a vagina - asymmetrical, and narrower at the head and end while bulbous in the middle. It was crafted from shimmering purple silicone, with the word 'G-SQUEEZE' embossed into one side of the flared base. The name made sense, as it had indeed squished and compressed inside her, allowing freedom of movement while continually stimulating and stretching her insides. And it was huge. She had felt stuffed and aroused all day.

One side of it was concave, she noticed, forming 'wings' that could be squeezed inwards for easier insertion, but unfurled once inside, providing that delicious full feeling and locking it in place. It was, she supposed, designed in imitation of a hand clenching and relaxing, but it gave the visual impression of a cobra's hood, ready to strike.

Tony had told her she could remove the plug once a day for cleaning and leave it out for a maximum of an hour to allow her pelvic muscles time to recover, if she needed it. Other than that, she had to wear the thing at all times, including while sleeping. She had no idea whether that duration of use was recommended or even safe, but it didn't occur to her to disobey.

Tony was her husband's worst enemy. A bully, who had ensnared her in a paraphilic sexual relationship of humiliation and revenge. She had refused to split up with her husband for him, but she hadn't been able to refuse him sexually. He had fucked her, better than any man ever had, then given her this toy to ensure her body, as well as her mind, remained fixated on him.

Tony had given her other rules, too. Her husband, Jim, was not to know about the plug. She was forbidden from orgasm while wearing it no matter how tempting it was (and it was, constantly - a pink cloud that sat over her mind like a nagging toothache), and she had to comply with any sexual advances that did not conflict with the first two rules.

Swallowing, she set about cleaning the plug, washing away her own lubrication from the smooth silicon with soapy water and setting it down to dry.

When Tony had first placed it into her that morning she had thought the difficult thing would be wearing it for so long. But it turned out the removal was more challenging, both physically (the wings did such a good job of locking it inside her that even with the flared base to grip she had had to grunt and bear down to retrieve it. There was no chance of it popping out by accident) but also psychologically. Already she missed the full, stuffed feeling inside of her. She felt empty, incomplete without it, her pussy throbbing needily, wanting to be filled.

All day she had been stretched, stimulated, teased by it. Pressing against multiple sensitive points inside her, rubbing and pushing her walls as she moved. She had led two more yoga classes wearing it, each pose and motion bringing a new thrill, and the fear of discovery. She dared not let the class see between her parted legs even momentarily lest they see the bulge of the base within her yoga pants, or the leaking wetness it evoked.

The effect was both torturous and thrilling. She was continually aware of the sensations within her pussy and thus, of her wider sexuality. It was as if it transformed her into a purely sexual being. Yoga had always been spiritual for her but now it became almost tantric, the way she pushed her chest out or arched her back, tilted her pelvis or stretched her lithe legs. Every inch of her body was erogenous, every motion sexual.

But most of all, it reminded her of Tony. That full feeling she had never felt before him. His mammoth cock, stretching her, filling her, making her his. The plug could not match that stretch, despite its considerable girth, nor could it offer the frenzied, intense pleasure of his lovemaking, which had fractured her mind and pummeled her nubile body into submission. But it served as a little taste, a memento of him, and their agreement. She was to be his, sexually, his plaything, and in return he would destroy all evidence, and do everything to keep her husband from finding out about their tryst.

She still felt shame at betraying her husband with his worst enemy. But part of Tony's insidious hold on her was that the shame, the betrayal, the very wrongness of her actions, had become ingredients in the emotional cocktail that tied her to him. They excited her.

And God, she had been excited today.

Curious, she took a compact mirror from the bathroom cabinet and held it between her legs. She wanted to see what effect, if any, ten hours of wearing the plug had had on her. Her pussy was inflamed, her clit standing erect, proud from its hood, her lips engorged with blood. She parted them gingerly with the fingers of her free hand and saw the entrance to her vagina was gaping open a full inch, dilated wider than she'd ever seen it. She was glistening wet too, despite the amount of juices the plug had pulled out with it, her body replacing the lubrication with interest. Her finger brushed her clit, sending a tremble throughout her body.

"Ohhh".

You may not orgasm while you wear it.

But, she wasn't wearing it now, was she? She wasn't sure this was what Tony had meant but she was so horny, so desperate for release. Surely this couldn't hurt?

Still holding herself open with her index and ring finger, she dipped her middle finger inside herself to coat it with lubrication, then ran it up to circle her hardened clit.

Oh my Godddd...

The sparks that flew up inside her were so intense that her knees almost buckled.

I can't do this standing.

She sat down on the toilet lid, spreading her legs wide, and began rubbing in earnest. Each touch was electric fire, and she had to bite her lip to prevent herself from crying out. Her husband was in the house. But she was so turned on, the sensations so intense, that she was convinced it would take only seconds to get herself off.

She was wrong. She teetered on the brink for minutes, furiously rubbing her clit, willing herself to orgasm. But something was missing.

Her eyes were drawn to the purple toy on the sink. I can't, can I? She knew what she needed. That feeling of being filled. Of being stretched, that Tony had introduced her to. Of being transformed, almost - colonized by the invader opening up her insides.

She grabbed the plug. Depressing its wings with one hand, she guided it up into herself.

Oh my fucking Godddd...

The thing was enormous, how had Tony ever slid it inside her so easily? How had she worn it all day? Already she seemed too tight for it, it was stuck, it wouldn't...

With a feeling almost like a pop, it pushed past the sticking point, and unfurled inside her. A gasp escaped her lips.

With one hand on its base she began working the toy in and out, while her other hand found her clit once more. This was the feeling she'd needed. The plug was only thrusting an inch or so back and forth, but the way it opened her up was exquisite.

She was fucking herself, like Tony had fucked her, pulverizing her pussy into submission. She would do anything for this feeling, anything. Her legs stretched even wider as sparks began to burst behind her eyes. She was going to cu--

The doorhandle burst open with a rattle. "Amy, are you okay? You've been in here for ages--"

"Jim!!" With one trembling foot Amy managed to catch the swing of the door inwards and kick it shut once more before her husband stepped through the gap. "What the hell are you doing? You don't just walk in on a woman in the bathroom!"

"You're not some woman, you're my wife," grumbled Jim's disembodied voice through the door.

"I don't care, Jim! You still don't burst in on me on the toilet!" Her heart was slamming in her chest.

"Okay, okay," She could hear Jim retreating away from the door, humbled. Probably to bed.

Amy exhaled slowly. That was fucking close. She was shaking with adrenaline. Still spreadeagled on the toilet, both hands on the toy and her pussy that still throbbed with desire. Fear, frustration and want fought for prominence inside her.

For a moment she considered whether she could finish the job with her husband on the other side of the door. Her teased pussy pulsed at the thought. But it was too risky. If he heard, if he saw...

Begrudgingly, she pushed the plug all the way back inside herself, as Tony had commanded, relishing at least the full feeling it provided. She closed her trembling legs and shimmied her navy blue nightdress down over her bronze thighs.

She felt Jim's eyes on her as she walked to the bed, and tried to ignore them. Her nightdress was very revealing, sheer silk cut low over her breasts and high on the leg - long enough that she need not worry about flashing the base of the toy that sat between her thighs, but only just.

Her body felt like a sexual beacon, lit up by arousal and frustration. But she dared not attract too much of her husband's attention, not when her nether regions were stuffed with another man's gift.

"Goodnight Jim." She rolled into bed, not looking at him, facing the other direction, and clicked off the light.

She felt a rustle behind her, a shift in the weight on the mattress, then her husband's hot breath on her neck.

No. No, no, no.

"Wow, you look great, Amy." He nuzzled at her neck. Pressed himself up against the back of her, till she could feel the bulge of his manhood against her ass.

She knew she couldn't do this, but she was so horny, so desperate, that her body ground back into him of its own accord.

"Mmmm. I was hoping we could... you know." He planted kisses on her neck, down to her collarbone.

She couldn't let this go too far. If his hands roamed too freely he would find the plug inside her, and there would be questions she didn't have an answer to. If he found out about Tony, had even an inkling, it would be the end of her marriage.

Yet, her body, denied and aroused, was responding to his touch. Her skin seemed to glow beneath his kisses. Her stretched pussy leaked juices against the inside of her thighs.

A hand slid up, over the silk of her nightdress, across the curve of her waist, to cup her breast.

Oh God.

Jim kneaded her breast through the silk, rolling her hard nipple between his fingers. It was all she could do to hold back a moan.

Tony's second rule was that I had to obey any sexual request. Including from Jim.

Was there a part of her, deep down, that wanted Jim to find the plug inside her? Wanted to find out about Tony, about her infidelity? She imagined the pain and humiliation on Jim's face. Somehow her pussy pulsed at the thought.

She remembered their vacation just last weekend, how she had dominated Jim sexually, straddling his face and humping his mouth till she came. The words she had called him. She imagined the same thing, riding his tongue with her clit as Tony's gift stretched her pussy like Jim himself never could. This time a whimper did escape her lips.

Jim took it as encouragement. The hand at her breast slid down, over her flat stomach. Panic and aching desire fought inside her. His hand pushed between her legs, fingers playing at the hem of her nightdress.

Tony said not to let him know. That was the first rule, the one that superseded all others.

She seized his hand with her own. "Jim, I'm sorry, not tonight." She tried to state it firmly but her voice was shaking.

"Oh! Are you serious? I thought.. thought you wanted..." she could hear the hurt in his tone.

"No Jim, I'm sorry. Not tonight. I... I'm just tired, I think."

This is the right thing to do. I'm allowed to turn down sex if it means keeping the plug a secret from Jim. Besides, it's protecting him. Nevertheless it took all her willpower to follow through.

Jim pulled his hand away and her body squealed at the denial. She wanted to grab his hand and press it to her throbbing sex, no matter what he found there.

For a moment she thought he might demand something else, something she was sworn to obey. She imagined him asking for a blowjob, and her body yearned to turn around, pull out her husband's cock and take him in her mouth in a passionate frenzy, no matter how that might leave her own pleasure even more frustrated.

But Jim didn't know about Tony's rules - how could he - and he was never the type to make sexual demands. Instead she felt him roll over, away from her, while she lay there, soaking in her own lust. This was the first time in her short marriage that she had denied her husband sexually. And even that thought seemed to turn her on.

After minutes that felt like hours, she heard Jim's breathing slow into soft snores. Sleep felt a million miles away for Amy, her body alive with arousal and conflicted emotions.

Slowly, carefully, so as not to wake Jim, she reached out and plucked her phone from the bedside table.

Delving into her messages, she clicked an old, familiar link. A beautiful, blonde-haired face filled the screen. Between her lips was a magnificent cock. Tony's cock.

Amy squeezed her thighs together at the sight, bearing down on the implement inside her. She imagined the feeling was Tony, stretching her open as he had that very morning. Filling her up.

Slowly, her free hand slipped between her legs.

Her thighs were a slick, slippery mess of lubrication leaked out around the base of the plug by her overstimulated sex. Her fingers found the nub of her clit.

Ohh, ohhhh.

She lay there for a glorious while, rubbing her pussy as she watched the old video of Sasha, her husband's ex, worshipping his enemy's cock, while her husband lay sleeping beside her.

Her phone buzzed in her hand. A message flashed up on screen. From Tony. Her pussy pulsed eagerly.

[You're looking at my videos again, Mrs Howell. So soon after our encounter. Do you have your plug in?]

Amy bit her lip and typed her reply. [Yes]

[Good girl. But you should call me Sir. Where's your husband, Amy?]

For a moment she considered lying, but if she said Jim was away, Tony might want to do more than text. [He's asleep, Sir. Next to me.]

[Oh, you are a dirty little slut. Watching videos of your master's cock while your husband sleeps. Are you touching yourself?]

There was no point in lying. He knew she was watching the video. [Yes, Sir.] Then, in a moment of inspiration and bravery, she added, [Are you?]

Her breath caught in her chest at his response. [No, I have something better.]

There was a photo attached. Checking she could still hear Jim snoring, she clicked and it filled her screen.

A tanned woman lay bent over a chair, back arched, tied heavily by thick rope. The camera was positioned so her round, smooth ass took up much of the frame. Her legs were bound so that her thighs were pressed together, but the folds of her clean-shaven pussy protruded between them from behind. Amy couldn't see the woman's face, but a glimpse of a blonde ponytail told her it was Sasha.

Amy fought down a surge of jealousy. Her friend. Her husband's ex. Was Sasha with Tony right now? While she lay here plugged and forbidden to cum, forced to deny her husband? Or was Tony playing a cruel trick, sending an old photo?

[Is that live? Is she there now?]

[Why Mrs Howell, aren't you green with envy. Yes, Sasha is here with me right now. Want me to prove it? Tell me what you want me to do with her. As you can see, she's not in a position to refuse.]

Amy knew she shouldn't rise to it. She should put the phone down and get some rest. But her throbbing, soaked pussy wouldn't let her. She had to know.

[Pinch her clit.]

The video arrived seconds later. The camera moved in on Sasha from behind, until her ass and then her pussy filled the entirety of Amy's screen. Sasha looked to be as soaking wet as Amy herself, and when Tony ran a single sculptor's finger down her shining slit, Amy saw the moisture accumulate around his fingertip, and Sasha's body quivver with pleasure.

God, I wish that were me. Either one of them. Amy trilled her own pussy between her fingertips.

Tony reached Sasha's clitoris, tracing two soft circles around it, and though Amy had no sound on her phone, she could see Sasha trembling and felt certain she would be moaning from his touch.

Then, without warning, he took the tiny bean between the pads of his thumb and forefinger and squeezed down. Hard.

The effect was instantaneous. Sasha's gorgeous body spasmed and writhed, no doubt screaming at the pain.

Amy's fingers mashed furiously at her own clit. A sensation began to rise within her, one she knew to be forbidden.

Then her screen went blank.

Furiously she texted, [Don't leave me like that! Show me more.]

Jim snorted behind her and she froze in place, not daring to move lest he wake, until he settled back down.

When she looked again the message was waiting for her. [Do you want to see me fuck her?]

She bit her lip again. Her mouth was full of saliva. Could she watch, with Jim sleeping next to her? It seemed a despicable type of betrayal. [God, yes. Yes, please let me see, Sir.]

Her fingers moved faster against her clit in anticipation. An orgasm was building, she was sure of it, one she'd have to deny herself according to Tony's rules, but for now she enjoyed the sensation.

[Of course you do. Tell me Amy, if I said you could take your plug out and fuck your husband - to orgasm even, if he's capable of getting you there - would you want to? Or would you prefer to lay there, denying yourself and him, watching me fuck his ex?]

Amy listened to her husband breathing behind her. Remembered the feeling of his lips on her neck, his manhood pressed up against her buttocks. Imagined him making love to her, sweet and tender. God help me.

[I want to watch, Sir.]

[Good girl. Then goon to this.]

Another video. This one a livestream link. Amy tapped it greedily.

Tony had his cock in hand, and the sight of it was nearly enough to push her over the edge. It was monstrous, magnificent. He advanced on the bound Sasha and rubbed his head up and down her swollen slit, coating it with her juices until his cockhead glistened under electric lights.

Amy was almost drooling.

He slapped the head of his gargantuan tool up against Sasha's clit, twice, eliciting visible tremors from the bound woman. Then he pushed it inside. Amy could see her friend's pussy working, stretching, struggling to accommodate his girth. She knew that feeling.

She squeezed her thighs like Sasha's were bound together, squeezing against the bulbous toy that stretched her own sopping cunt, trying to recreate the exact sensation of Tony entering her. It had been like nothing else in the world.

She watched as he buried his entire length into Sasha's trembling pussy and felt an impossible spurt of jealousy. She used it as fuel, her fingers working rapidly against her clit.

Tony must have lifted his phone and flipped the camera, because for a moment his gorgeous chiseled face filled the screen, emerald eyes sparkling cruelly. He winked into the lens, directly into Amy's soul it seemed, then placed it forward, onto a tripod directly in front of Sasha's face.

Amy saw for the first time that the blonde woman had a black ball gag stuffed between her pink, beestung lips. A line of drool had escaped them and trickled over her bottom lip and down her chin. Sasha's eyes appeared glazed over in pleasure, not focusing on the phone placed in front of her.

But those eyes sprang wide as Tony began to fuck her in earnest. Amy could see her moaning - or perhaps screaming - into the gag. Her whole body rocked forward with each thrust and for the first time Amy fully understood the term 'fuck her brains out'. The expression on Sasha's face looked like Tony was removing something from her very psyche with each thrust, and depositing something of himself inside.

Like he did to me.

Amy gripped the base of the pussy plug between her thighs and begin playing it in and out like she had in the bathroom. Timing it with Tony's thrusts, pretending it was him that was stretching her insides. A tiny whimper fell from her tongue, her whole body shaking.

On the screen held an inch from her nose, Sasha was shaking too. Her breasts were swinging beneath her, her lips moving softly against the ballgag, showing all the signs of a fast-impending orgasm. Tony grabbed the back of her blonde ponytail and pummeled even faster.

It hit Sasha like a freight train. Even without sound, Amy could see the scream she let loose into her gag, how every muscle in her body tightened for a glorious few seconds, then went slack, spent.

Tony let go of her hair and Sasha's head dropped like her neck was a wet noodle. Tony pulled out from her pussy and Amy was treated by the sight of him jerking his monstrous appendage, until he spurted stream after stream of hot cum over Sasha's tanned back and ass.

Amy was close... so close... she fucked herself with the pussy plug until her wrist was aching.

Tony picked up the phone again and she saw him smile as he typed.

[Do you want to cum, Mrs Howell? Like Sasha here?]

[Yes Sir. Please. Please can I cum?]

[Are you ready, Amy? Ready to be truly mine? Ready to leave your husband, like Sasha did for me?]

Amy felt like she was being ripped in two. [No. Please. Anything but that.]

[I'm disappointed, Mrs Howell. No, you may not cum. You remain forbidden. Wear your plug, edge your cheating little pussy if you like. But do not orgasm, do not let your husband know. Expect more commands from me tomorrow.]

The livestream went dead.

Amy howled internally with frustration. Her pussy throbbed against the toy inside her. For a moment she was tempted to rub herself to orgasm regardless of Tony's instruction - how would he know, anyway? - but she couldn't bring herself to disobey. She dropped her hand from between her legs, her fingers dripping with her own wetness. If her clit had a voice, it would have screamed.

For the rest of the night, she barely slept. Tossing and turning as her body was tortured by the inadequate stimulation of the plug, and her mind by the situation she had gotten herself into.

Always the good girl, Amy had never cheated on anyone before, and she was only just realising how fine a needle she was attempting to thread.

She loved her husband, she knew in her heart. And no matter what Tony might want, she would never leave Jim, nor could she bear the pain if he ever found out about her infidelity.

But at the same time, Tony had unlocked a part of herself she had never known existed. A yearning, aching desire for something more than sex, something she couldn't yet name. And she could no more close the door to that part than she could chop off her own arm. So Tony would have to stay in the picture. And she would have to figure out how to prevent these two sides of her world from colliding.

***

Tony lay naked on his king-sized bed, the rise and fall of his broad chest slowing as Sasha's blonde head rested upon it, gazing up at him with a glazed, almost drunk look of satisfaction.

"What's wrong, baby?"

Tony raised an eyebrow, not aware he'd given any impression of something being amiss. "Nothing, girl. I'm just thinking of Amy Howell. Her defiance, and how sweet her submission will finally be."

Sasha screwed up her nose. "Defiance? I don't understand Tony. Didn't you already fuck her? Haven't you already won?"

Tony shook his head, but a smile danced at the corner of his lips. He had been stymied, but only temporarily. "No Sash, I haven't won, not yet."

"But I don't..."

"Submission means different things to different people," Tony interrupted, inpatient. "For you, you were headstrong, independent. You feared what you craved; giving up control to a man."

His hand explored the curves of Sasha's body. She made no attempt to stop him. It came to rest at her plump breast and squeezed. Despite their so-recent fuck session, he felt a stirring in his loins.

"Amy is different to you. She has always thought of herself as a good girl. That's her identity. Dutiful wife, responsible business owner. Chaste, god-fearing. What she craves isn't control, but degradation. She fears being wanton; a slave to her basest desires, like all those loose girls she's silently judged over the years. Including, most recently, you."

He placed one hand on the back of Sasha's head and guided her firmly downwards to his lap. Without uttering a word or using her hands, she opened her mouth and accepted his hardening cock. She was used to this by now.

"I may have fucked Amy once. I almost certainly will again, I'm convinced she's desperate to. But she's still trying to play the good girl. Still trying to be that for Jim. Trying to compartmentalize her passion."

Sasha made soft sucking sounds as he guided her mouth up and down over his manhood. There was a gurgle of pleasure, then a slight glukkk as he pushed her further down upon it.

"With her, victory must mean a complete fall. Acceptance of herself as the filthiest of sluts. The bitch wife who breaks her husband utterly. Her reputation in the gutter, and his pride as a man along with it."

He groaned at the thought, Sasha's hot wet mouth the perfect compliment to his fantasy. She was no longer really listening. Her eyes half-closed, suckling happily as though his cock was her entire world. Just as he liked her.

***

"That was a good service, wasn't it?"

Amy shuffled uncomfortably in the passenger-side seat, unsure how to answer Jim's question. In truth, she hadn't been paying much attention to the sermon, she had been too distracted by the jungle heat between her legs. The wooden pews of their church were unforgiving; no matter how she sat she found her plug pushed deeper inside her, pressing against her G-spot, making her even more miserably aroused. At least she had worn underwear and pants today, unlike the time Tony had instructed her to remove her panties beneath her Sunday dress. But nevertheless she'd spent most of the service shifting restlessly in her seat, conscious of the puddle forming in the crotch of her clothes and the eyes of the round-faced pastor, which seemed to move over her far more than was necessary.

"Are you teaching yoga class this morning?"

"Mmm-hmm. Vikram."

"Oh. I was thinking, maybe you could give it a miss? We could spend the morning together, just the two of us?"

Amy looked up at him, startled. Jim had previously spoken about needing to go into the office today, despite it being Sunday. They still hadn't discussed last night - her refusal of his advances - and now he wanted them both to sack off work for the day. Was he trying to make time for sex?

Her pussy fluttered at the thought. She did want to satisfy her husband. But... the plug... there was no way.

"I'm sorry honey, I don't think that's a good idea. I already missed last weekend's classes for our vacation."

"Couldn't someone else cover?" Jim seemed a little disgruntled.

"I'm the face of the business, baby. You know that. My members expect to see me."

"Ummnn." He grunted his response.

"I'm sorry, Jim. We'll have some private time in a couple of days. I promise." She reached over to kiss him on the cheek. Her pussy seemed to squeal dissent at being denied once more, but she had no other choice.

He dropped her off at home to get changed, making a big fuss about going into the office after all. She watched him drive off, and the moment his car was out of sight she plunged her hand into her church pants. What she found was a febrile swamp of desire. Her thighs were slick despite her panties, her pussy pumping out heat. And when she touched the gusset of her underwear her knees instinctively caved inwards, so engorged was the sensitive flesh beneath.

"Ohh goddd..." With the house empty she let loose the moan aloud.

Her fingers moved to circle the swollen, tortuous bud at the front of her sex. Fuck Tony and his rules. Not for the first time she was sorely tempted to give herself the orgasm her body desperately needed, regardless of her master's wishes.

But she could just not quite bring herself to do so. He had commanded her not to cum, and if you disobey, our deal is off.

That meant more than just her sexual relationship with Tony. Part of their deal would be that he would never reveal her infidelity to Jim. It would destroy her husband, she knew, and she couldn't bear to cause him such pain.

So why, then, had she gotten off on Tony's dirty talk? His verbal degradation of Jim as he'd fucked her? There will be consequences if you don't obey. I'm not your bitch husband who you can disregard and disrespect. Why did her libido race and pulse as she thought about what he'd said, as much as what he did to her?

With a jolt she realized she'd been wearing the pussy plug since last night. They'd been in a rush for church, and she hadn't been able to take it out and clean it without arousing Jim's suspicions.

She couldn't lead yoga classes all day without cleaning it. She glanced at the clock. She had time before she needed to leave. She needed a shower anyway, she could clean it at the same time.

The hot water seemed to sizzle off her as it hit her naked skin. Oh god, that felt good. She hadn't realised how much tension she'd been carrying. She relaxed under the pounding water, letting her muscles melt into softness.

She soaped up, feeling the lather of tiny bubbles gliding under her hand over her neck, her delicate bronzed shoulders. She moved her hands over the soft curves of her breasts. Her nipples were rock-hard, poking out pink through the soap suds, and a shudder went up inside her as she grazed one with her thumb. Her entire body was still wired; in a sort of perpetual electric haze of sexuality and frustrated desire.

She slid a hand down over her toned stomach, through the soft brown curls of her pubic hair, arching her back slightly as she did so. Beneath, her clit was as proud as her nipples, almost achingly engorged, and then her hand found the base of the toy inside her.

As before, it wasn't easy to remove. She had to place one lithe leg up against the shower wall, opening herself up, and bear down as she pulled on the base with study pressure, until finally the wings of the plug released their hold inside her and the giant object slid out of her with a pop like a champagne cork.

She held it up in front of her, trembling from the effort. It glistened with a thin white film of her own lubrication. She brought it closer to her face. For one wild, mad moment a voice in the back of her mind seemed to whisper lick it, but she shook the thought out of her mind as soon as it entered.

She washed the plug in the shower then placed it outside to dry, before going back to washing herself. Her soapy hand slipped once more between her legs, and she whimpered at what she felt there.

Her pussy was inflamed, gaping - hungry and empty. It seemed to throb at her touch, and her entrance yawned wider than she'd ever felt it, as though desperate to be filled once more. Her clit throbbed against her palm.

Could she? Jim had interrupted her last night and Tony had deliberately frustrated her. She was yearning for release. You need to get to work, her mind told her, but her mind didn't seem in full control right now. Her middle finger circled her clit and she whimpered once more.

She had time, she told herself, she could be quick. Her clit pulsed in agreement.

She placed the pads of two fingers either side of that proud button and began to rub in earnest. "Ohhhh, fuck."

God, she'd needed this. She leant back against the wall, letting the water wash over her, rubbing and squeezing her thighs together. Her free hand found her breast and cupped it, squeezing. Her mind transformed it into Tony's hand, his body up against hers, pressing into her. His hot breath on her neck as he kissed and bit at her flesh, and his other hand working between her thighs. Since your pussy husband can't get it done.

"Ohhhh, ohhhh, oh God, oh Tonyyy..."

She was nearly there, she could feel the pressure building inside her, waves crashing against a dock. Just a little more to push her over the edge, just a little...

Her middle finger slipped inside herself, feeling for the sensitive patch at her front wall. Her ring finger followed, her body offering no resistance. Then, for the first time in her young life, she pushed a third finger inside.

"Mmnnnn, oohhh fuckkk.."

It slid in with no difficulty, her red-hot, stretched pussy taking it hungrily. She had delicate hands, but still... Christ, I'm insatiable. She could feel how slick her insides were, feel juices pumping between her fingers as she moved them, curling them, pressing up against her wall.

Can I? She pushed her pinky finger against the others, pointing her hand like a duck's bill, and suddenly all four fingers were inside herself, with only her thumb left on her clit.

"Oooh FUUUCKK!!

She pressed deeper into her vaginal canal, stretching it further even than the plug had, not able to match the length and depth of Tony's stroke, but at least simulating the delicious, full sensation; the stuffed feeling she needed, needed to cuuu...

RIIIINGGG! RIIINNNNGG!

The fucking doorbell! It tore her from her reverie, robbing her of the orgasm just as it was about to peak. Who the fuck could be at the door at this time?

She could ignore them, pretend she wasn't in. Her pussy pulsed against the four fingers inside it and she closed her eyes, trying to recapture the sensation.

RIIIINGGG! RIIIINGGG! Then some thunderous banging, as if someone were trying to bash down her front door.

"For fuck's SAKE!" She ripped her hand from her needy pussy, grabbed her dressing gown from the hook and stormed downstairs.

If that's the Amazon guy I'm going to fucking eat him alive.

She opened the door, heart racing, fully ready to chew some poor postal worker out.

Instead, Tony towered over her in the doorway, nearly a foot taller than her in shoes, his broad chest filling the gap of the door.

"Good morning, Mrs Howell. You are looking... lovely." His emerald eyes swept up and down, taking in her pink dressing gown clutched at her sternum, the flush of her shower-wet skin. She wondered what else he could see: could there be a tinge in her cheeks, a dilation of her eyes, a hitch to her breathing that could betray what she had just been doing? Would he know?

"I... I was just taking a shower..."

"I can see that," he stepped smoothly inside and closed the door behind him, without being invited. She cursed herself for moving aside, before she had consciously thought of it. Her body felt weak in his presence. Pliable.

"Tony, what the fuck are you doing here? This is my home."

This wasn't what she wanted. She needed to keep Tony and Jim as far away from each other as possible, different sides of her life separated by an interior curtain. Tony invading her and Jim's home like this muddied the waters, in a dangerous way.

Tony didn't answer, instead rolling the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows, exposing muscular, tanned forearms.

"Were you masturbating?"

The question hit her like a slap to the face. "Wh-what? No - no, I..."

He seized both lapels of her dressing gown and yanked her towards him, till her hands hit his chest, just inches from her own. Her stomach leapt and her pussy seemed to purr between her legs at the dominance of the act.

"Don't lie to me, Amy," he growled down at her. "I can smell it on you. You were touching yourself last night, and now, with your husband out of the house, you thought you'd finish the job."

Amy's jaw bobbed open. He hadn't phrased it as a question so she wasn't sure whether to respond.

He leaned in closer, till his lips were at her ear, and his voice when he spoke was a low hum, "You just couldn't resist touching that needy little pussy, could you, you filthy girl? My plug has you all riled up. Here, let me see."

Before she could stop him, one powerful hand had slipped inside her gown and up the inside of her thigh. Her knees buckled as he touched her there, felt the warmth and wetness at her center.

"Ohh..."

Strong fingers slipped between her lips, teasing her clit and then exploring her entrance. Then, quick as it had started, he pulled back, leaving her gasping for more, his fingers shining with her wetness.

"You've removed your plug, Mrs Howell."

"J-just to clean it." Her heart was pounding like a naughty schoolgirl. It was ridiculous he had this effect on her. "You said I could..."

"Just to clean it?" A knowing smile played at the corner of his lips. "Where is it?"

"In... in the bathroom."

"Then go and get it. Bring it to me. And we're going to have a discussion, about our agreement."

***

By the time Amy brought the plug downstairs, she had regathered herself a little. The surprise of Tony's arrival and his dominance in the moment had shocked her, and that shock combined with her over-aroused state had led her to be more passive than was ideal. But she knew she needed to be stronger. A discussion about our agreement didn't sound like something she was interested in; she needed to hold firm on the boundaries that held Tony and Jim in two separate spheres.

She handed the plug to Tony with trembling hands. Quick as a flash he seized her, pulling her in and slipping behind her, binding her like an anaconda.

He had one arm wrapped around her waist, pinning her own arm to her side, his other hand at her throat, squeezing, tilting her head up. She could feel his hot breath on the side of her neck.

She felt a fresh spurt of dampness between her thighs.

"T-tony, I..."

"You know you can only remove this for one hour. And you can't cum while wearing it. Those were my rules, and you promised you'd obey. This was our deal. You don't want to break it and have me tell little Jim what you really are."

His hand slipped up inside her robe immediately and cupped her breast, rolling a nipple between his fingers.

"Mmnnhhh..."

His touch was electric, sending waves fizzing through her body. Her pussy throbbed between her legs and she couldn't help tilting her hips back, pushing herself into him.

"Are you ready Amy? Ready to leave your limp-dicked husband? To break him and embrace your dirty, base desires?"

Yes, yes, anything. Do it, say it. He'll make you cum, give you what you need. That big cock, filling you up, forever.

She could feel it growing, pressing against her from behind. Her whole body ached for him.

Yet, with a monumental effort of will, she spat out the word, "No.

"I told you, I won't leave Jim. That's not part of our deal."

He removed the hand from her robe as if slapped and her body seemed to mewl in denial. Nevertheless, she gathered her will to press on.

"Have you deleted the videos? That was part of our deal too. You can't let Jim know about us, remember?"

For a moment he didn't answer, and it seemed to Amy that his grip slacked, and she might be able to slip out, to spin around and face him as an equal.

Then the hand on her throat pinched down once again, and she could hear the crocodilian smile in his voice when he spoke.

"Don't worry Amy, I'm not going to show your husband. I'll keep my end of our arrangement. Besides, that would be so much less fun."

"'Fun'?"

"I'm not going to break up your marriage with little Jimbo. You are."

"Never."

He snorted. "You will. It's inevitable, the longer our little game keeps going, the chances of your marriage surviving edge towards zero. But if you break it off with me, our deal is over, and I'm free to tell Jim everything. It's not a case of if you break your marriage, it's when. How long you can last. And the longer you do the more damage you'll cause when you finally capitulate."

It's true, don't you see? A little voice whispered in the back of her mind. Tony's right. You're in a trap of your own making. Your best bet is to break it off with him now, then come clean to Jim before he can. Jim will be crushed. He may still choose to end it. But it'll be better than if he finds out late.

Amy imagined herself coming clean to Jim. Telling him everything she had done with Tony. Why she'd done it. How she'd craved it, enjoyed it; her sexual awakening with his worst enemy. Jim looking at her, tears in his eyes. Seeing her, all of her, maybe for the first time, and hating her.

She couldn't do it. Couldn't bear for Jim to look at her like that. A slut. A whore. Others too, because there's no way word wouldn't get out. Their prying eyes, whispered voices would follow her wherever she went. No. There must be another way out of her... entanglement. There must be.

"You know that promiscuity before marriage predicts success in marriage?" Tony's voice snapped her back to the here and now.

It was her turn to snort in incredulity. But he continued,"People don't like to believe it. Especially women, in my experience. But it's a repeatable finding. The number of previous sexual partners predicts the chance of divorce, and even the length of marriage."

"So?" Why was he telling her this? "I wasn't promiscuous before marriage. So based on your logic, Jim and I should last forever." She jutted her chin up under his grip, defiant. Even as her sex throbbed between her legs.

He chuckled. "No, no you weren't, Amy. But sometimes, hidden in these statistics are more nuanced truths. There's a subgroup, you see, who haven't slept with many people but who do even worse than the most promiscuous. Those were the people who weren't slutty before marriage, but wished they had been."

His hand slipped up from her throat to cup her chin. His mouth traced a line down the side of her neck, and she shivered beneath his lips.

"My theory is, those are the people who deprive themselves of experience when they're younger, convinced that it confers them moral superiority. They marry someone who they think matches their values. Then they have their sexual awakening too late. Come to realise that sex, like life, is a smorgasbord which they now are forbidden to taste. They come to resent their partners, for everything they cannot give them."

His other hand reached down, back to the heat and slickness between her thighs. She gave a little gasp as he touched her, ever so lightly. Her body was on fire.

"Sound familiar, Mrs Howell?"

"No." She spoke through gritted teeth, refusing to let her voice shake.

He laughed. "You put on a good front but your body tells a different story. I can feel how wet you are, how hungry.

"You must be desperate, Amy. If we assume you were touching yourself for 15 minutes before I arrived, that gives you... maybe 30 minutes left to find an orgasm. Before the plug goes back in and you have a whole day to wait. Would you like me to assist?"

He rolled her engorged clit in circles with his fingertips, sending waves crashing up inside her. Her knees went weak, but he was holding her up by the neck.

"I..." Yes, yes, God yes. Please...

But she would not. She wasn't going to beg, like a wanton whore. Instead she wriggled, trying to pull away from him.

He was too strong, holding her in place, his fingers still working at her sex.

"Ooh, there's fight in you, Mrs Howell. A fiesty little brat."

"Fuck you," she hissed, even as her body poured heat against him.

He sunk his teeth into the flesh of her neck, not hard enough to break skin, but like a dominant cat controlling another.

At the same time, the two fingers at her clit slipped lower, pressing inside her sopping opening with no resistance. She gasped.

"You are a bad girl. Who knew it, beneath the goodie-two-shoes exterior?"

"Fuck--"

She meant to end you once more but as her mouth opened he slipped the fingers out from her pussy and pushed them inside her mouth. Her lips closed around them.

"There's a treat for a little brat. Taste yourself."

She could: taste her own juices on his fingers. Heaven help her, she sucked down upon them. "Mmmmm."

"You're so wet for me, Amy. I can play you like a violin. I know what you need, in a way your husband never has."

Without warning, he pulled his fingers from her mouth and pushed her forward over the kitchen table. She felt hard timber against her chest where her breasts spilled from her open robe. Tony pinned her head down against the tabletop, her cheek pressed into it so, struggle as she might, she could not get free.

He lifted the hem of her gown up over her back, exposing her bare ass. She felt the cold morning air on her skin, her ass and inside of her thighs especially cool where they were covered with her own juices. She was completely at his mercy now, her pussy tilted up towards him, throbbing and hungry, but no matter how she twisted in his grip she could not see what he was doing behind her.

"Say it, Amy. Say you'll abandon your husband, and I'll give you the release you so need."

She felt the moist warmth of his tongue run up all the way from her clit to her rosebud asshole, her body shuddering under his touch.

Yes! Yes! Please! Her body screamed but she forced different words through gritted teeth:

"N-no. Not for you. Never."

He laughed. "Still not ready, Mrs Howell? Alright. For now I'll accept you begging for my cock."

She heard a rustle behind her then felt something pressed up against her sex. Something enormous, sliding between her lips. The head of his manhood, held against her covetous opening. Her whole body purred in anticipation.

"I... I..."

CRACK! His palm lashed across her bare ass cheek and she spasmed in response.

"Tick tock Amy. You have less than half an hour before the plug goes back in. Now is not the time for shyness."

"I... I..." God help her, "P-pleeeease! Please give it to me, I need it!"

"What is it you need?" He ran his cockhead up and down her slit, brushing her clit.

"Y-your cock! Please give it to me, please fuck me. Please!"

"That's my dirty girl." He pushed the head inside her.

As he did so, a phone rang. Her phone.

Without pulling out, he seized it from her gown pocket before she could comprehend what was happening, and pushed it against her pinned cheek.

"Answer," he hissed.

"Amy?" came the tinny voice through the phone. What choice did she have? He'd already picked up the call.

"H-h-hello?" She tried, and failed, to keep her voice neutral even as Tony's cock pushed further into her, splitting her apart. Thank God the plug had kept her open, or she wouldn't have been able to resist a scream.

"Amy, where are you?" It wasn't Jim's voice. Thank heavens. It was Madeline, her employee at the yoga studio. "You're late, you always take the first class of the day and it starts in 5 minutes. The class is here waiting for you."

Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit. She hadn't realized the time, she never missed this class without giving her members notice. She had even spurned her husband's advances to be there. But...

"Tell her you won't be coming in" Tony whispered as he inched deeper inside her, making her legs begin to shake. "Tell her you have a sickness."

"Who is that?" Madeline asked. Even through the pink fog in her brain Amy recognised the suspicion in her voice.

"N-no one. Just Jim. Mads, I..." she bit back a moan as a tremble of pleasure rushed through her, "oh, I'm sick. I c-can't make it. You'll h-have to take the class."

"Amy, you're telling me this now?" Madeline's voice was waspish. "The class is about to start. I'm not prepared, I'm not dressed for it for God's sake, I was working the front desk."

"Mads, I... I'm s-sorRY!" The end of the word became a sort of strangled squeal as Tony bottomed out inside her, filling her completely.

"Amy, what's going on with you? Something's not right, first that guy comes to your office yesterday, then you act odd for the whole day. Now you're missing classes? This isn't you. Look, you can tell me--"

"Hang up." Tony ordered, sliding back out of her until she felt like he was extracting her very soul along with his cock.

With a whimper, she complied, cutting Madeline off half-sentence. It would be okay, Mads would cover the class just fine and she would be in tomorrow. She just needed... needed...

"OoohhhHHH!"

He plowed back into her with hostility, crushing her body against the table, making her eyes roll back in her head.

How had she ever lived without this feeling? Jim couldn't give her this; he couldn't come close. It was incomparable, like a firecracker to a supernova. A water pistol to a cyclone. Any thoughts of resisting Tony crumbled, all she could think was more, more, give me more...

Tony was fucking her in earnest now, hollowing her out with each stroke, and her moans filled the kitchen.

"Oohh, oohh, fuuuckk, mnnnngh, Tony, fuck meee.."

He was fucking her in her own kitchen, in the house she shared with her husband, with reckless abandon. Where her neighbours might be able to see, or hear. Where Jim could return early from work and be confronted with the whole catastrophic affair. None of it mattered.

All that mattered was the shaking in her legs, the warmth spreading out to her fingers and toes. The lewd wet squelching of her pussy as it welcomed him, again and again. The waves crashing over her, dragging her under...

"Do you want to cum, Mrs Howell?"

"Nnghh, nnmmhh, y-yes, yes!"

"You remember what you said? You'd obey me in anything?"

His words didn't make it from her ears to her brain. They were lost in the swirling pleasure of her building orgasm. She'd say anything, do anything, to have that feeling continue.

"Oh! Ohh!"

"Don't you dare cum until I say so!" He slapped her ass so hard she was sure it would leave a welt. "Your pleasure is mine to decide."

"Oohhhhhh, oouuummmgggnn..." She bit down on her lip, trying to hold back the sensations as he split her cheating pussy open.

"Beg me." He growled the words as he plowed into her, stretching her cheating pussy with each godly stroke. "Beg me to let you cum."

"P-pleeease! Nnffhhh... Please Tony, I'm yours, just - UGGH - l-let me cuuuumm!"

He gave one more pummeling thrust, taking her right to the teetering edge.

"Y.. y.. mmngh.. g-gonna... c-c...."

Then: "Unfortunately, Amy, your time is up."

Just as the waves of her orgasm were about to break, he pulled his manhood out of her, leaving her thrashing, hips bucking. Her pussy clenching against empty air, denied even the slightest touch it needed to send her over.

"Noooo!" She mewled in despair.

It was no good. He held her pinned to the table and no matter how she moved or begged, squeezed her thighs or tilted her ass trying to tempt him back, the waves subsided. The moment was gone.

"Y-you b-bastard." Her voice was barely a croak.

He waited until the last shake had emptied from her body, then he grabbed the plug and stuffed it up inside her. She felt the wings unfurl, filling her in that familiar way, but it was not enough.

Then he leant over and whispered in her ear, "Good girls don't cum. Not until their master says they're ready. Remember that."

"N-no, please, I'll... I'll..."

"Rules are rules, dear Amy. You've had your hour. If you hadn't spent so much of it resisting me, you would have had your orgasm. This should teach you something about obedience, I think."

She could barely hear him. Her mind was numb. Her body wrecked, from having ridden on the biggest orgasm of her life, only to have it ripped away.

"Get down on your knees."

She didn't understand him the first time, so when he repeated it he pulled her down off the table by her chestnut hair.

She dropped to trembling knees, her breasts spilling out of her open dressing gown. She looked up at him, coming face-to-face with his enormous cock.

It really was magnificent. Nearly twice the length of her husband's and three times as thick. Wet and glistening with her own juices. There was no wonder it gave her the type of pleasure Jim could never dream of. Without realising she was doing it, she licked her lips.

Her pussy clenched against the plug inside her.

She reached out to take Tony's cock in her hand, but he batted it away.

"No Amy. It's time you learned to take a cock properly in your mouth. Not on your terms, but on mine."

Still gripping a handful of hair, he manhandled her back, pushing her back up against the table he had just fucked her on.

"Open," he commanded. There was no choice but to comply.

Tony pushed the head of his cock between her moistened lips. Again she reached up to grip the base of it, and again he pushed her hand away.

"You're not in control here. You need to learn how to do this. How pleasure a man with your throat, not your hand."

He pushed deeper into her mouth, several inches inside. She could taste herself on him.

When Amy usually gave head, which wasn't often, she was used to swirling her tongue around the tip, moving her lips over the head, jacking the shaft with one hand. There was none of that here.

Instead, her tongue flattened to the bottom of her mouth, he guided his monstrous appendage to the back of her throat. She had to stifle a gag.

If he ever thought to do this - and she would never let him - this is as far as Jim could have gotten.

But Tony was barely getting started. Using her hair as a handle to reposition her head so that her mouth aligned with her throat, he pushed yet deeper.

Amy was gagging in earnest now, choking, the muscles of her throat working furiously to expel the invading force. It was like she was drowning, he was going to suffocate her, she couldn't possibly...

But somehow, miraculously, she did. She felt his balls touch her chin, her nose nestled in the salty-smelling black thatch of his pubic hair. Then he began to retreat.

She watched his cock slide out, coated in a thick foamy white slime of her saliva, yet more of it running out around her lips, dripping unladylike down the front of her bare chest and stomach.

It was humiliating, oppressive. She felt like the lowest of the low, reduced to little more than a masturbatory aid for him. Yet somehow that thought made her tingle between her legs. He was manly, domineering. In control. He was taking Jim's new wife and fucking her throat, and god help her, it turned her on.

He withdrew until only the tip of his cock was left between her lips, her gasping in massive gulps of air, the trail of saliva connecting her mouth to his cock like a chain.

"Is this the first time you've ever deep-throated a cock?"

"Y-yes," she mumbled.

"Sir. Call me Sir."

Heat pulsed between her legs. This is what he'd made her call him via text message the day before. But somehow it felt different here, in person, in her own house. Jim's house. That's wrong. So wrong. But her whole body was still on fire, lit up with arousal and denial, and her resistance had already crumbled.

"Yes, S-Sir."

"We'll make a slut of you yet, Mrs Howell."

What? No, I'm not... don't want to be... but her pussy betrayed her, clamping down against the plug at the sound of the word.

He added a second hand to her hair, steering her head as if driving a car. Her mouth was making humiliating wet noises as he pushed his cock back inside and the muscles of her throat worked to accommodate him.

MmmGgglnn Ggllrrrlp sslukkkpn...

"What would your husband say if he could see you now?"

Oh god, please don't talk about Jim. Jim thought she was a good girl, a good wife. Not some filthy cheating whore, getting throat-fucked on her knees.

Her whole body felt like it was on fire, her skin soaked in sweat. He continued thrusting into her mouth.

Gggllukkk, sllllpppprr, grrlllk.

Tony's thrusting became faster, choppier. She felt his body stiffen. A part of her cried out and she didn't know whether it was in joy or dismay.

"Gonna... gonna cum... down your married throat."

He drove forward, embedding his cock deep inside Amy's gullet. She felt him twitch, spewing his seed directly into her throat.

"NnnggGHH! Yes! Yes! Fucking take it! Swallow my seed and don't you dare spill a drop."

She couldn't if she'd wanted to. Her throat worked furiously to prevent herself from gagging, receiving his glorious salty cum and milking him dry.

Finally his orgasm subsided, and he pulled his softening cock out of her mouth. She collapsed to the floor in a heap of roiling flesh. Saliva streamed from her mouth down onto her pretty young tits, her face a mess of tears, snot and spit.

She was a disgrace, and she loved every moment of it.

Tony tucked his manhood back inside his pants. "Get yourself cleaned up, Mrs Howell, and get dressed. I'm taking you out for lunch."