Wandering Wives

WANDERING WIVES

Chapter 1

Even almost a year after I did it, I don't know why I responded to the unsolicited e-mail that appeared in my Inbox one evening. (I don't call the stuff "spam", because unlike the e-mail garbage, real Spam is useful stuff). Anyway, I did read it, out of boredom or whatever, and because of that simple action, my life was changed forever.

It was an advertisement for a Website that supposedly was a worldwide registry for wife-swapping clubs, and that had links to local clubs that were "guaranteed" to be close to me. It was probably that single thing, more than anything else, that captured my interest, because I'd been thinking about that very subject quite a bit in the months leading up to receipt of the letter. Although I hadn't said anything about such a thing to my wife, I was trying to think of some way to broach the subject in a way that wouldn't make her think I was tired of her.

I suppose when most men think of having sex with another woman, and their wives doing the same with another man, their interest is mainly with the excitement of getting some strange pussy. In my case, though, the part that excited me most was watching another man fucking my wife. Most of my sexual fantasies were on that subject, and many were the times I would jack off to the image of Sharon lying there with her legs spread while some big-dicked stranger pumped away at her. As you've probably already imagined, my most important part in the proceedings came a short time later when he'd pulled out of her pussy, and she ordered me to "clean up the mess". There's no way I can explain why such a thing was exciting to me, so all I can do is just state it and go on with my story.

After I had clicked the link in the letter, my browser opened and loaded the Website. Like all such sites, that one was full of photos of naked women and men in various sexual positions. The text was mainly concerned with extolling the virtues of wife swapping, and explaining all the "benefits" that married couples would derive if only they'd participate in the activity.

It took me several seconds to find the button that was labeled "Local Clubs", but when I did I clicked it. It opened a page that asked me to specify my country, and when I had done so I was taken to a full-screen map of the United States. After clicking my home state, I then saw a map of just that area. The instructions were to click my approximate location in the state, and then in the next map, my city of residence.

At last I saw a map of my city, and my final click was on our neighborhood. That opened a list of clubs, with a description of their approximate location, and a telephone number to call for more information. I was disappointed to see there were none listed for the part of town in which we lived, although there was one which was less than half a mile from our house. I guessed that was "local" enough for me, so used its linking button to go to another Web page.

That page was modeled after the parent site, although it was much less garish. At the top was the name of the club, "Wandering Wives", and below that was a statement explaining the purpose of the club, and the requirements for membership. As could be expected, there were no last names given, and the photographs of the club officers had a just single first name as identification, and they were wearing masks that covered the upper parts of their faces. That wasn't surprising to me, since I was sure members would value their privacy, given the nature of their activities.

Those particular activities were described in detail in the next paragraphs, and I've copied them here in their entirety so you can maybe understand why they were so exciting to me.

"Wandering Wives seeks to live up to its name. We're not quite the typical wife-swapping club you may be familiar with. We have no problem with those clubs that are composed of couples only, and whose purpose is to arrange sex between the husband of one couple and the wife of another, and vice versa. That sort of activity is fine for those who desire it, but we choose to go beyond that."

"Our primary purpose is to provide an outlet for wives who want to fuck men other than their husbands. The men who participate must meet two very important requirements: Their cocks must be much larger than normal, and they must know how to use them. Whether the man is handsome or not does not matter in the least. We care about measurements and style only. Little-dicks needn't bother to apply; they won't be accepted. However, if they are married to one of our members, then they're certainly welcome to watch their wife being fucked. Maybe she'll even have a job for them afterwards. Who knows what happens behind closed doors?"

By the time I had finished reading that, my cock was hard. My favorite image ran through my mind over and over, and it was of my wife lying there spread wide open. Her pussy was still stretched from the recent visit of the monstrous cock lying beside her, and the freshly-deposited cum was beginning to run out of it. She was beckoning me to her side with one hand, and pointing to her crotch with the other. I knew what was required of me.

When I was again able to concentrate on the screen, I continued reading and scrolling until the bottom of the page was reached. The final line invited me to navigate to the next page, and see some of their members "in action". I wasted no time in doing just that, and was soon watching as several thumbnail photos loaded. Each was of a nude man or woman, in full-frontal pose. The men all had erections, and of course they were very large when compared to my own normal-sized 6" tool. The women were of various ages and had nice bodies, although I couldn't really tell much about them. Every person was wearing duplicates of the masks I had seen on the first page, but of course I wasn't really all that interested in their faces anyway.

Below the thumbnails was text asking me to subscribe to the Website, so that I could see the members sucking and fucking. As a further inducement, it said that if I clicked on one of the small pictures, I could see a few sample photos of that member doing his or her stuff.

There was one thumbnail of a woman, with the name "Sherry" as the caption, who was my wife's approximate shape and hair color, and I thought it would be exciting to see her sucking and fucking a big-dicked man, and fantasizing that it really was my Sharon doing those things. I clicked that particular photograph, and was taken to a page that displayed a large image of the woman kneeling in front of a man, with his cock in her mouth. I knew right then that it really was "fantasy", because my wife simply refused to allow my penis anywhere near her mouth. She had sucked me for a couple of seconds on fewer than a dozen occasions during the years we'd been married, and those had happened in the first few months after our wedding. The caption below the photo read, "Sherry is the most accomplished cocksucker in our club", which made my fantasy even more difficult to believe.

The second photo showed the woman's head drawn back from the cock, with her mouth wide open and her tongue extended. Cum was spurting from the cock and landing on her tongue. If I had any doubts before about it maybe being Sharon, that totally convinced me. I remembered the only occasion when she had been too slow in getting my penis out of her mouth, and the first spurt had happened. She gagged and spit so much that I was sure she was going to barf in the bed. There was no way she'd ever do what the woman in the photo was doing. Again, the caption that read, "Sherry loves eating cum", cooled my fantasy. I was hoping the next picture, farther down the page, would be closer to something my wife would actually do, so that I could incorporate it in my fantasy.

As I scrolled down the page, I could see that the third picture showed her lying on her back over a tabletop. Her legs were wide open as her feet rested on the floor. A very hairy man was standing between her legs, with the tip of his monstrous penis just entering her pussy. Again I savored the sight, trying to convince myself it was Sharon being fucked like that. In my mind, I said things like, "Yes! Fuck her harder. Put every inch of that monster in her cunt. Fill her with your cock, and then pump her full of your cum. Hurry so she can make me service her!" The caption this time was more helpful, as it read, "Sherry can't wait for Dirk to fill her pussy with cum, so she can take it home to her little-dick husband."

As I scrolled down to the final picture, the man had pulled his slimy penis out of her pussy. The photo was a close-up of her crotch, showing her pussy still gaping wide from the stretching it had just received. The first gobbet of his cum was shining in the opening, almost ready to fall from its home. The final caption was a real turn-on for me. It read, "Your midnight snack is ready, hubby. Come and get it!"

I had been stroking my erection through my jeans for several minutes by that time, and that sight was enough to put me over the edge. As I felt the jism begin to boil up my shaft, my eye turned to something on the woman's inner thigh, just a couple of inches below her pussy. Never in my life had I been in such a state of shock as I realized what I was seeing!

There, displayed for all to see, was the exact birthmark I'd been seeing between my wife's legs for years now. When I ate her pussy, that mark had featured prominently in my lovemaking. It was about 1" overall in size, and in the shape of a cat's head. I had kissed it many times, and had referred to it as her "kitten", since it was right next to her pussy. I knew there could not possibly be two identical birthmarks in the whole world, yet here was one on the thigh of this woman lying there with a stranger's cum running out of her opening!

By that time nothing could have stopped my climax, and my cock began to fill my undershorts with its slimy seed. I don't know if what I was gazing at, even in my near-shock condition, made my orgasm longer than usual, but it seemed to me that it would never stop. Spasm after spasm erupted from my cock, until finally one last surge signalled the end.

I sat there gasping for breath, my fogged-over eyes locked on the birthmark, trying to come to terms with what they were telling my brain. The eyes said, "It's Sharon!" The brain said, "It can't be!" That dialog went on and on for what seemed like hours, until finally I came to full consciousness and my breathing slowed.

Still I stared at the screen, unable to fully accept the fact that it was my wife in those photos. My wife who had sucked another man's cock, even to the point that he had shot his cum into her mouth. My wife whose body was reclined backwards over a table so he could stick his oversized penis in her precious pussy. My wife who had been filled with his cum, and then lay there with her legs spread so a photograph could be taken of her dripping opening.

Finally I scrolled back up the page, to the first photo. It had shown her head in profile from the left side, and I knew the final confirmation was there. My wife had a tiny mole on her neck, just below her left ear. If that were visible in the picture, then I would have no choice but to accept that "Sherry" was really and truly Sharon.

It was with a feeling of anticipation, as much as dread, that I centered the first photo in the screen and then leaned forward to look closely. The mole was there! Now there could be no doubt whatsoever. It may be statistically possible that there would be two women with identical birthmarks, but to also expect they would have identical moles was not. I at last accepted as fact what I had intuitively known for several minutes. It was indeed my wife who had sucked another man's cock, had swallowed his cum, had fucked him until he climaxed deep inside her, and then had said she would soon be bringing that cum home to feed to me.

I don't know how long I sat there staring at the screen before I finally came to terms with what had changed in my life. I had been fantasizing about just exactly what I had seen, and maybe some think my reaction would have been pleasure that the fantasy had finally come true. The reality, however, was entirely different. To say I was torn between two emotions would have been putting it mildly. My mind was in utter turmoil. Over and over, the four photos flashed through my brain. Time after time I visualized the captions. The warring emotions of extreme jealousy and erotic excitement fought hand-to-hand combat in my head.

As I finally understood I must close the browser and change my underwear before Sharon returned home from her grocery shopping trip, I became aware that my cock was still rock hard. I don't know that it had ever softened in the minutes since my orgasm. It seemed that the brain between my legs was not a bit conflicted by the situation, unlike the one in my head. It wanted more of what had made it feel so good, regardless of who was involved.

I shut down the computer then, and changed my underwear. All the time I was doing that, I tried to think of some way to make Sharon give me the tiniest clue that it really was her on the Wandering Wives Website. I thought of "accidentally" calling her Sherry to see what her reaction would be. Or asking, "How is Dirk getting along?" Or maybe even taking the direct approach and asking her opinion of wife swapping (of course, in this case it would be "man swapping"). In the final analysis, I knew that I didn't have the guts to do any of that.

At that instant, the door from the garage closed, and I knew she had returned. It had always been my habit to meet her at the door and help carry in the groceries, so I did that. We exchanged small talk as the groceries were carried to the kitchen and put away. It was all I could do to hold up my end of the conversation, because all the time I was wondering if maybe she had stopped by the club, and was even now carrying a little "something extra" for me. I wanted more than anything else to tear off her clothes, throw her back over the kitchen table, and bury my face in her crotch. I knew that I wanted to find her all wet and sticky just as much as I wanted to find her not that way. That's what I mean by saying I was conflicted. Anyone who has been in that situation will understand, I'm sure.

What I actually did was exert every effort to act "normally", whatever that means. We had planned to watch a TV movie that evening, and that's what we did. All the time I was sitting there beside my wife, my constant thought was of her lying on that table, being fucked by that anonymous cock. It's a good thing she didn't want to discuss the movie afterward, because I wouldn't have been able to recall even the simplest of details about it.

When we finally went to bed, I almost attacked her. After a few perfunctory lip and neck kisses, followed by some titty licks and sucks, I homed in on my real target. Soon I was lying on my stomach between her legs, with my head buried in her crotch. It was almost disappointing to find her no wetter than normal, and with no "extra" juice dripping out of her pussy. Given the stimulation of the photos I'd seen just a few hours ago, my imagination supplied all the impetus I needed, and I was soon licking and sucking to the best of my ability. My only regret was that the lights weren't on, and I couldn't confirm my knowledge of her birthmark. In my memory, both the one in the photo and the one that was covered in darkness beside me were identical. Since I couldn't think of any good way to ask her to turn on the bedside lamp, I'd just have to trust my memory, I guess.

My efforts must have been arousing enough to Sharon to put her over the edge, because she reached her orgasm in what seemed to be record time. It usually required several minutes of eating to make her cum, sometimes as long as half an hour. This time, however, she began to spasm and lock her legs around my head in what was probably less than five minutes. That probably wasn't a record, but it was close enough.

My own climax joined hers, and my cock shot its load all over the sheets it was rubbing against. It may not have been one of my best-ever orgasms, but it was close enough to reduce me to a state of exhaustion, especially when combined with the one I'd had in my pants a short time ago.

As we lay hugging in the afterglow of our shared climaxes, I asked if she'd enjoyed our lovemaking. She replied that it had been better than usual, and that I seemed to be more turned on than normal. When she asked if I'd been doing something "dirty" while she was shopping, it was all I could do to keep from saying, "Yes. I saw some photos of you being fucked by another man, and I was hoping that you'd brought his load home for me."

What I actually said was, "No. Nothing out of the ordinary. It's just that you're so incredibly sexy, and that's what made me so horny." She laughed softly at that, then replied, "Oh. I thought maybe you were doing something you shouldn't have been. Maybe looking at dirty pictures on the Internet, or something like that." Again she chuckled, but her words were so close to the truth that I was unable to join in. Even after cumming twice in the space of a few hours, my cock was still more than half erect, and the four images of her still ran through my head. I was truly fixated on what had once been a fantasy, and had now become reality. I was sure that it would soon evolve into much more than what we now had.

____________________

The above events happened on a Friday, and the ensuing weekend was pretty normal for us. I did the usual yardwork and Sharon did her usual housework. We went out for dinner, also to our usual place. The sex we had that night was unusual only in that it was rare for us to make love two nights in a row, given that we'd now been married for almost 20 years. When we did it again the following night, it brought back memories of the year immediately after our marriage. Neither of us mentioned the oddity, but I was certainly aware of it, and I'm sure she was also.

It was only when I was driving to work, the next morning, that I realized that we had made love three times over the weekend, and at no time had my penis entered her vagina. On every occasion I had given her oral sex, and my own orgasm was caused by my cock rubbing against the sheet. Almost in a reverie, I tried to remember the last time when I'd actually fucked my wife, and was unable to recall anything more recent than at least two months ago. Given what I'd seen on the Website, Sharon obviously had no need to feel my cock in her pussy, and I had to admit that my own fixation on eating her, while fantasizing about what I was swallowing, had made me satisfied with the abscence of intercourse.

It was during those drives that I tried to devise some way to get us talking about what Sharon was doing at the club, and what I very much wanted to watch. I resolved to once again visit that Website when she made her weekly trip to the grocery store that coming Friday, and see if that would help. So that's what I did, just as soon as her car left the garage.

In less time than it takes to tell about it, I had surfed to Wandering Wives. Once again I looked at the four photos of my wife sucking and fucking, but this time I was able to control my raging cock better than I had a week ago. I had planned to subscribe to the Website, because one of the inducements was that videos of the members in action would be available if I did so.

My credit card number was soon entered, immediately accepted as payment, and I was a confirmed subscriber. I wasted no time in clicking the link to the videos, and was very pleased to see one there for "Sherry", who I now completely accepted was my loving wife, Sharon. I opened the video, and soon was watching the short movie of her sucking and fucking a stranger.

There was also audio with the movie, and in some ways it was more erotic to me than the images I was seeing. When her mouth wasn't filled with her lovers cock, she said over and over how good it felt to be fucked by a real man, with an adequate cock. She said many times that her husband had a tiny little wee-wee, and it was no good for anything. It may seem odd to you that such things could be arousing to a man, but they certainly were to me.

The total length of the video was only a few minutes, but by its end I was almost out of my mind with lust. When, in the final scene, the cock pulled out of her pussy, and then the camera zoomed in on the cum draining our of it, she said in a hoarse whisper, "Oh, God! I wish the wimp were here right now so I could sit on his face!" That was all it took to put me over the edge, and without my hand even touching it my dick began to spurt. Spasm after spasm filled my undershorts with jism as my mind played again and again the image of me lying on my back and her lowering her cum-filled pussy to my eager mouth.

It must have taken me several minutes to regain my senses. When I finally did, I said softly out loud, "I want you to do that to me. I want to suck another man's cum out of your pussy while you're sitting on my face. I'll do everything in my power to make it happen." It was more than an empty promise. It was a firm resolution, and I knew I'd move heaven and earth to get us to that point.

My brain had cleared enough to allow me to read some more of the text on the homepage of the Website, and I did so. The one thing that I hadn't noticed on my first visit was the line that referred to the facts that regular meetings were held on the first and third Wednesdays of every month. It was almost a revelation to me to realize that, in my memory at any rate, we hadn't had sex on a Wednesday night in many years. Somehow we had settled on the weekends for lovemaking, and the weeknights were not on our schedule. Not on MY schedule, at least. Obviously my wife wasn't observing that restriction.

I actually could have predicted that particular day on the calendar, because whenever Sharon had a nighttime activity to attend, it was always on Wednesday. Whether it was P.T.A. meetings at the school (she was the Business Community representative, even though we have no children, or so she had told me), chats with her friends, or working late at her office, it was always on Wednesday. It's funny how something so obvious could be so hard to see. I guess that's the basis for Hawthorne's "Purloined Letter", and I'm sure everyone has something like that in his or her own life. In mine, it was an excuse for my wife to pursue her fascination with sucking and fucking other men. Now that I saw the connection, it made me question my own intelligence.

The plan I finally devised was simplicity itself, even though it took much thought and self-doubt to finalize it. The following Wednesday was the first one of the month, which meant that Sharon would probably have some sort of nighttime activity planned. She usually told me about her mid-week plans sometime Sunday evening, and I fully expected her to have something to tell me about at that time, in two days hence.

My plans finally made, I resolved to get through the next five days in as normal a manner as possible, in order to not alert her that something was different. To that end, I met her at the garage door on her return from the grocery store, and we followed our usual procedure for the rest of the evening. When we were at last in bed, we again had passionate sex, with me licking her to orgasm, and my cock emptying its load on the sheet. That repeated itself on the next two nights, and again my fantasies were of her returning home with a "midnight snack" for me. I was firm in my resolve to turn that fantasy into reality when Wednesday night finally came.



WANDERING WIVES

Chapter 2

Never in my life has the clock moved as slowly as it did in that short span of three days. Sharon had casually told me about a get-together with some of her friends from work, and that it would happen Wednesday night. Since I had expected such an announcement, I was prepared to respond casually, and did so. I drove to work Monday morning, rehearsing over and over what I wanted to happen when she returned home from the "get-together" Wednesday night. As I visualized what I hoped would result, my cock was at full staff all the time. Fortunately we were in the cold part of the year then, so my coat helped to hide my arousal as I walked through the lobby of my office building.

Despite the best efforts of the clock and calendar to delay it, Wednesday evening finally did arrive. As I ate the dinner she'd prepared and set out for me, Sharon bathed and prepared herself for her meeting. It gave me a special thrill to know she was getting ready for her lover, and I longed to kneel beside the bathtub and wash and rinse her lovely body as my contribution to her upcoming enjoyment. Since it was not my usual practice to do that sort of thing, I forced myself to stay in the kitchen.

Finally she said good-bye and walked down the hallway to the garage door. I broke my rule by following her to the door, and then hugging her fiercely as I said good-bye. She just smiled and made some comment about how much more romantic I had been lately, and then left. My cock was rock hard then, and I was sure it would remain that way for the rest of the night. I had resolved to not masturbate while waiting for her, so that my excitement would be at fever pitch when she returned. I was sure nothing extra would be necessary to help me carry out my plan, but a little abstinence certainly wouldn't hurt.

The rest of the evening was spent watching television and reading, although I can't tell you what programs were on TV, or what I had read. Everything is a complete blank up until the time I got ready for bed, and then lay there waiting for her return. Everything, that is, but the images that raced through my mind.

You know what I mean, I'm sure. The ones where she sucked and fucked another man's oversize cock, and then joined him in orgasm as he pumped her full of quarts of his cum. Over and over I heard her say, "I've got to get home now before all your cum runs out. My husband is probably waiting for his snack." Indeed that's exactly what I was doing, and I fervently wished that's what was happening right then.

At about 1:00 in the morning, I heard the door softly close, and knew she had come home. I was usually fast asleep when she returned from her Wednesday forays, and tried with all my might to give the impression of being that way then. I struggled to even and slow my breathing, and to lie still. My whole body was still, except for my traitorous cock. It was raging in my undershorts (which is the only thing I slept in), and I was afraid Sharon would hear it thumping against the sheets.

As I lay quietly there, she entered the bedroom. A few seconds later I heard the sound of her clothes falling to the floor, and then closed my eyes tightly so they wouldn't shine in any stray light from the nightlight in the hallway. I felt the covers being drawn back, and then her weight settle onto the mattress. She very carefully lay down and drew the covers over her, and by then I could restrain myself no longer. I mumbled something in my very best imitation of a sleepy voice, and then moved up against her.

She was lying on her side, facing away from me. As I snuggled close to her, I could tell she was completely nude. That part was different, since she usually slept in her panties. Neither of us said anything, but I could tell by the tenseness in her body that she was completely awake. Finally I draped my arm over her shoulder and rested my hand on her breast.

Her nipple was already erect when my fingers touched it, and that alone told me she was excited about something. It was always odd to me that her nipples were very slow to erect, because I had thought that effect was one of the first of a woman's arousal. However, since it was already turgid, I was sure that she had been doing something more exciting this night than attending a meeting of her co-workers.

My hand lightly stroked her nipple for a time, and then I decided it was time to pretend that I was coming awake. I nuzzled her neck and mumbled something about how good she smelled, and how very desirable she was to me. She could feel my erection against her backside as she lay there, so knew I was aroused. Finally she must have decided it was time to give me some encouragement, and turned to her back.

That was all the invitation I needed to move my mouth to her breasts, and to kiss and suckle her erect nipples. Her sighs were confirmation that she was enjoying my attentions, and I redoubled them. After what seemed like an eternity, I knew it was now or never for my plan, and I began to slowly move my kisses down her body.

If I had ever had any doubts about it being her in the photos and video, they were erased then. Her body was simply bathed in the scents of lovemaking. Never before had I smelled another man's fresh cum on my wife, but I knew I was smelling it now. Her own scent is entirely different, and mine is slightly different, than what was wafting in my nose then.

I had by that time reached her lovely belly button, and I spent a few moments tonguing it. As I began to move my head even lower, she placed her hand on it and asked softly, "Are you sure you want to do that?" In answer, I begged, "Please." That seemed to satisfy her, and she then moved her hand slightly and began gently pushing my head lower. The fact that she didn't say another word, but used that simple gesture to indicate she wanted me to do it as much as I wanted to do it, made that moment highly erotic for me.

I wanted more than anything else to simply dive between her legs and lick and suck as hard as I could, but I knew I had to make this pleasurable for her also. As difficult as it was, I went slowly lower and lower, finally reaching her pubic hair. The smell of fresh cum there was almost overpowering, and I could not stop myself from licking feverishly to remove the traces from her bush.

As I finally reached her crotch with my tongue, it encountered a piece of lightweight cloth. That almost froze me in place, not so much with the shock of finding such a thing there, but with the overwhelming surge of lust it caused. You see, I knew immediately what it was, and it again confirmed my guesses, my hopes, of what she had been doing just a short time before.

Ever since the first time we had intercourse with my cock bare (she has used the pill for many years), she had complained about the unpleasant tickling caused by my cum running out of her pussy. After the first time, she had always brought a handkerchief to bed to place between her legs after sex. I had no doubt the cloth I had found there now was serving the same purpose, and took it in my fingers to remove it.

As soon as she felt the slight tugging, she whispered, "No. Not that way. If you want to do it, let's do it right. Get on your back."

My throat constricted so tightly then that I could barely breathe. I knew that she knew that I knew (if you know what I mean) what was waiting for me there, and it was that knowing, that understanding, that made that moment so much more exciting. It was my knowing that she wanted to feed me another man's semen, and her knowing that I wanted to eat it from her pussy, that erased all reticence we may have once had.

I moved back up the bed then, and lay flat on my back.

In the faint light from the hallway, I saw her sit up in bed. She then straddled my head and pulled the handkerchief out of her crotch. She paused then, almost as if afraid to carry through with what so very much needed to be done. In my frenzy and lust, I reached up to her hips and pulled her delicious pussy to my mouth.

At the first tentative lick, she sighed deeply, then whispered fervently, "Yes!" She seemed to settle even more forcefully on my lips then, and began to move her crotch back and forth while I licked. And lick I did! Everything I had ever fantasized about this moment paled in comparison to the real thing. The scent, the taste, the texture of the combined juices of my wife and her lover simply cannot be described. Never in my life had I been so out of my head with lust. Never had I tried more desperately to lick up every indescribably delicious drop, to feel it on my tongue, to swallow it eagerly and send it to its rightful home in my stomach. I wanted that moment to last forever, for I was in heaven right then, and didn't want to ever leave.

Sharon had never been very vocal during our lovemaking, but she was that night. As I fed from her pussy, she said over and over things like, "Yes! Lick it up! Get every drop of it out of me! Suck it out! Swallow it! Eat it!" I'm sure it would have been impossible to increase my arousal any more, but her impassioned words seemed to have that effect on me. When finally she gave that little moan in her throat that always signals her orgasm, she said, "Oh, God! I'm going to cum! Suck his cum out of me! Get all of it, you little wimp!"

That was the trigger that began my own climax. Even though I was lying flat on my back, and not touching my cock, it began to spurt forth its own load just then. My hips bucked as my mouth sucked, to coin a phrase.

As Sharon's pussy spasmed, I thought I'd be drowned in the sheer volume of semen that was forced into my open mouth. If I had thought my previous efforts had removed all traces of her lover's cum, then I was proved wrong at that time. Again and again I swallowed, and again and again she forced more of the stuff to take its place.

All good things must come to an end, and our orgasms did too. She slumped forward, carrying her weight on her outstretched arms, and gasped for breath. I tried to draw in air around her still tightly-pressed pussy. Just as I thought I was going to pass out from lack of air, she moved off me. She stretched out beside me and we hugged passionately for several minutes.

Finally she asked quietly, "Did you like that?"

My brain was racing as it tried to come to terms with what had happened, but it finally calmed enough to allow me to reply, "There're no words to describe how wonderful it was. I didn't know it was possible to get so turned on and still live. It was the best ever. Thank you."

She chuckled softly before replying, "It was good, wasn't it? Do you suppose we should do it again sometime?"

There was a pregnant moment of silence then, signifying we both knew what was being asked. Finally I hugged her even more fiercely and whispered, "We have to do it again! Something that good can't be ignored. I want to do it over and over, as much as you'll let me."

She was quiet for a long time then, seemingly gathering her resolve to ask the oh-so-important question that she had. At last she asked in a husky whisper, "Do you know what it was that you were eating?"

I was quiet also as I considered my response. I could be flippant, and destroy this moment. Or I could be truthful, hoping that it would extend this new openness between us. I said quietly, "Yes."

She said, equally quietly, "Good." After another long pause, she asked me how I could be so sure what had been in her pussy, and I replied, with no pause this time, "I know about the Wandering Wives club."

Again she said, "Good", then continued. "I'm the one who sent that e-mail to you. At least, it was me who typed your address at the main Website, and asked it to send more information. You'll never know how exciting it was for me to look in the browser history the next day and see that not only had you been to the homepage, you'd also looked at the four pictures of me. Did you know it was me sucking and fucking that man?"

I replied, "Not at first. I just picked out that thumbnail because it resembled you, and I thought it would go good with my fantasy. When I saw your kitten in that last one, it just about did me in. I think that's about the most confused I've ever been in my whole life. I was wanting it to be you lying there with his cum running out of your pussy, but at the same time I almost couldn't stand the thought of it."

She then said, "I've been trying to think of some way to get us talking about it for so long. If that letter hadn't worked, I don't know what I'd have done. I was getting pretty desperate. I'm so glad you didn't just delete it."

I said, "I'm glad too. I've had fantasies for years of you being fucked by other men, and then ordering me to clean up the mess they leave. When I saw you on that site, with his cum running out of you, I just about went out of my mind. I'm surprised I didn't try to lick the screen."

We both laughed softly at that, and lay quietly hugging each other close. I thought of another question that had occurred to me recently, and said, "Now that we're being so honest with each other, how about telling me how long you've been a member of that club."

She answered with no hesitation, "I was wondering if you'd want to know that. I joined a little over two years ago. Do you remember my friend Joan, who's the emergency room nurse? She's the one who mentioned the club to me, and said how exciting it was to fuck big cocks. Her own husband was pretty small, like you, and she said that if she hadn't found the club several years ago, she'd probably have left him. I have to admit that I know the feeling, now that I've had the comparison. There's just no way to explain how good it feels to be completely filled by a man's cock. I know yours is about average size, which makes it bigger than half the others out there, but it just can't make me feel the way a big one does. Can you understand that?"

I said that I couldn't understand it, since I had no experience with that sort of thing. What I could understand though, was her desire to find that sort of fulfillment. Even more than that, I earnestly believed it was the right thing for her to do, and had no reservations whatsoever about her enjoying other men's cocks, as long as she would make me a part of it.

She again laughed softly before saying, "Don't worry about that part. Now that I've finally seen how exciting it is to feed you another man's cum from my pussy, it's going to be a major part of your menu." We both laughed at that, and my cock, still erect even after the best orgasm of my life, seemed to grow even more. There was nothing I wanted more right then, than for one of her lovers to climb in bed with us and fill her cunt with another snack for me.

After another long kiss, she said, "You said you've had fantasies for a long time about what we did tonight. I don't feel a bit sleepy, so I want you to tell me the most extreme fantasy you've had. If you hold anything back, I'll know it, and you'll never again get to eat me."

I could tell from the tone of her voice that she was more serious than joking. There was no confusion in my mind about which of my cuckolding fantasies was the most extreme, and the most exciting to me. I thought momentarily about relating a more mild story, but seriously believed she'd know what I was doing, and fulfill her threat. The thought of never again being allowed to have my head between her legs was more than I could bear. Even though it would be embarrassing to me to reveal such an intensely personal thing, I resolved to do so with no holding back.

I began. "In my fantasy, you've taken me to a place where you're going to have sex with lots of other men while I'm forced to watch, and then lick you clean afterwards. You've warned me that if I embarrass you in any way, or fail to perform up to your expectations, you're going to punish me in a very severe way. Rather than frighten me, your words seem to make me hotter, and my little penis tries to get harder.

When we enter the house, it's filled with lots of naked men. All of them have monstrous erections and the biggest balls I've ever seen. I can tell they've been storing up their cum for me for a long time, and I silently pray that my stomach will be able to hold all of it.

You immediately order me to get undressed, and you do the same. As soon as we're both naked, you lead me to the center of a large room and tell me to lie on my back on the floor. I see there are four metal rings fastened to the floor at the corners of an imaginary 8' square."

"After I'm in place, the men pull my legs and arms toward the rings, then use ropes to tie my ankles and wrists to them, holding me in a spreadeagle position. You then walk over to a nearby table and lean over it backwards, with your feet still on the floor. You spread your legs as wide as you can get them, and I can see the moisture on your pussy lips. I know you're hotter than you've ever been as you think about what's going to happen this night."

"The men gather around you, leaving a gap so I can see your crotch. The first man stands between your legs and slowly pushes his cock inside you. I hear you gasp in pleasure as you feel the thing, and I know that I've never been able to give you that sort of feeling. After a few minutes, I hear that little moan you make when you cum, and your hips start to buck wildly. The man has climaxed at the same time as you, and I know that his huge balls are emptying their load deep in your pussy. Finally he pulls out, and I can see his cock is coated with juices. Your pussy is stretched from the fucking, and I can see his cum in the opening."

"You stand up and walk over to me. You straddle my head and let me look at the most lovely sight in the world. Finally, as the strings of cum start to leak out of you, you lower yourself to my mouth. I lick and suck as fast as I can, trying desperately to get every drop of his cum out of your pussy. You tell me that if I don't get every last bit, then you'll get pregnant and I'll have to raise another man's baby."

"Finally there's no more sperm to eat, and you walk back to the table. As soon as you're in position, the second man begins pounding away at you. When he finishes, I expect you to again come feed me, but you say, 'I need another load to feed him. He didn't get enough the first time.' The third man then forces his mammoth penis deep inside you and begins pumping away. I can hear the sounds his cock makes as it stirs the juices in your pussy, and then finally the little moan again."

As soon as you're able, you again stand over me. This time the cum is dripping in ropes from your gaping opening. I open my mouth as wide as possible, and you move slightly to guide the jism. When I swallow the first mouthful, you lower your pussy to my lips once again. As before, you warn me to get every drop so you don't get pregnant, and I do my best."

"You alternate lying back over the table and squatting over my face until I've eaten the loads of about half the men. At that point, you see that I'm performing more slowly, and become angry with me, and say things like, 'Your worthless little wee-wee is no good, is it? No real woman would ever allow you to fuck her with such a useless little thing. It needs to be punished for being so small, doesn't it?' You then turn around on my face so you're facing my crotch, and I know you're seeing how swollen my belly is as it tries to hold all the semen you've fed to me."

"I see one of the men hand you a whip, and then watch your arm raise it high. As I lick and suck desperately, you begin to whip my cock and balls. Finally you cum again, and it's only then that you stop whipping me. After you recover, you again go to the table, this time returning with a triple load. I look at my horribly-swollen stomach, sure that it can't hold much more, and wondering what you'll do to me if I can't perform as you order. The tip of my tiny penis is just barely visible over my mounded belly, and it's crisscrossed with red stripes from the whipping."

"Again you settle to my mouth, facing my crotch. Again I lick and suck while you whip my worthless little dick and balls. It takes me a long time to swallow the three loads, but finally you're empty once again. As I look to the group of men standing by the table, waiting for their turns with you, I see they're all still hard and their balls seem to be larger than ever. I know deep in my soul there's no way I can eat all the cum they'll put in you, and I'm ashamed of myself."

"You once again stand over me and guide the ropes of jism into my open mouth. I swallow and swallow, but know that my limit has been reached. You become very angry with me then, and hold your hand out to one of the men standing there. To my horror, he hands you a large knife, which you grip tightly. As you settle to my mouth, you say, 'The little wimp can't seem to handle cum from real men. Since he's not a real man, he doesn't need those worthless little things between his legs, does he?' Again I suck and swallow desperately, but the volume of cum in your pussy is just too much for me."

"As you sense my failure to serve you as required, you lean forward and take my worthless little nuts and tiny little penis in your left hand. You stretch them as far as possible from my body, then hold the knife blade against their base, as close as you can get it to my crotch. As you begin to cut them off me, I feel my little pee-pee spurt its last load ever."

As I finished my story, Sharon was breathing very raggedly and hugging me so tightly that I thought I'd suffocate. Finally she said hoarsely, "On your back! Now!" She practically ripped off my undershorts in her frantic haste, and then immediately straddled my crotch and lowered herself onto my erection.

For the first time in many months, my penis was once again inside her. However, her pussy was so stretched from the fucking it had received a few hours ago that I momentarily wondered if I were in her or not. She obviously had the same feeling, because she hissed, "Jesus Christ, you're small! How can you live with something like that hanging off you? It really does need to come off, doesn't it?"

I was already extremely aroused from the fantasy I had just relived, and the effect of her words was enough to put me over the edge. My jism began to spurt again, less than half an hour since it had last done so. I felt an intense burning sensation in my crotch as my overworked body complained, but far from cooling my lust, it seemed to intensify it. As I visualized Sharon slicing off my genitals, which in my fevered brain was the cause of the pain, I shot gobbets of cum into her wide-stretched pussy.

As soon as the last spasm subsided, she lifted off my dick and moved her crotch quickly to my mouth. I didn't need her order to, "Eat it, you damned pencil dick", to make my tongue and lips do their duty. Soon my throat was working overtime as it sent the slimy stuff to my stomach, there to join that of my wife's lover.

That Sharon was definitely turned on was demonstrated as I again heard her precious little moan, soon followed by her hoarse whispers of, "Oh, God! Yes! Eat it out of me! I'm going to cut off your useless little cock and balls, and you'll never cum again!" As she was saying that, her thighs were squeezing my head with intense pressure. I actually thought I'd black out, but her orgasm ended just in time to prevent that.

Again she slumped forward onto her outstretched arms, and sat there panting heavily. At last she moved off me and lay there trying to regain her composure. As one, we turned toward one another and hugged and kissed. And again, it took us several minutes to recover from the emotional outburst we had both experienced.

Just as I was beginning to think she had fallen asleep, she whispered to me, "Did that taste as good as the first load?" I had been thinking of just exactly that question, and still hadn't arrived at an answer. It was certainly different in taste, and it was certainly much less exciting to eat my own cum from her pussy than it was to eat her lover's. Finally I decided that the first load had been the best, and answered, "It was better the first time. It's probably the excitement of knowing I'm eating another man's cum from my wife's pussy that made it taste better, but that's still the way I feel."

She agreed with my assessment by saying, "It was more exciting for me too. Any man can eat his own cum from his wife, but it's extra special if it's from another man." I murmured something in agreement then, being unable to say anything more. It seemed as if an overwhelming exhaustion had spread throughout my body, and I couldn't make myself stay awake. As sleep overtook me, I heard Sharon whispering in my ear, "Thank you for telling me your fantasy. It was the hottest thing I've ever heard."

Through my sleep-fogged brain, I felt her turn over, and then heard her softly murmur, as if to herself, "He's much farther along than I'd even dared hope. I'll have him in the back room before summer comes." That was the end of any conscious thought, and I slept soundly.



WANDERING WIVES

Chapter 3

The next morning was a workday, but I knew there was no way I could make it through eight hours of work after having about four hours of sleep. When the alarm clock rang at 6:00 a.m., we both came awake. I knew by the way Sharon looked at me, and the way I felt, that we both needed a day off. We decided to call in sick that day, something we rarely did. We both had sick days built up, and didn't feel the slightest bit of guilt about the little white lies we'd tell when we called our offices later. With that decision made, I turned off the alarm and went back to sleep.

After we had finally got the day underway, we sat at the breakfast table drinking coffee and talking. It was obvious to both of us that there had been a significant change in our relationship, and it was reflected in our conversation. Instead of casually chatting about the weather, we talked about the Wandering Wives club. Instead of mentioning some news from our respective jobs, we talked about how important it was for a woman to be sexually fulfilled, and to have orgasms just as often as a man. But most of all we talked about the next meeting of the club.

Sharon began that particular discussion by saying, "The next meeting will be a week from next Wednesday, as you know. Do you want me to take you with me?" As in our other conversations during the past few hours, there was no need for either of us to pretend we didn't know what the other was talking about, which is pretty typical of most married couples, and would have been typical of us less than 24 hours ago. I answered simply, "Yes. I'd like that very much."

She paused for a few seconds, as if trying to collect her thoughts, before continuing. "I know you've had fantasies about watching me being fucked by other men, but I hope you realize the reality will be entirely different. It's one thing to lie in bed with me and think of something like that, but to actually see it being done is another. Are you sure you can handle it?"

I didn't need any time to consider my answer, and quickly replied, "Yes. I'm sure I can. I know what you mean by the difference between fantasy and reality, and I still think it's what I want. I've seen the photos and the video of other men making love to you, and that made it pretty real for me. I definitely want to go with you, and watch the real thing."

She said, "We don't call it 'making love' in the club. It's nothing but fucking, pure and simple. That's like confusing scratching an itch with caressing a lover. They're entirely different. I love you, and always will. It's just that I have an itch that you can't scratch, because of the dirty trick Mother Nature played on you. You can't help the fact your penis is too small to satisfy me, and I can't help the fact I need big cocks. It's just the way it is."

I nodded my head in agreement, and she continued, "I just want to make sure you won't embarrass me in front of my friends. Not too long ago, another woman brought her husband to watch her being fucked. He was just like you, and had said he definitely wanted to see it. However, as soon as the first man started, her husband began crying and whining for her to stop. He had confused fantasy and reality, and as a result had shamed her. I just want to be sure the same thing won't happen with you."

I thought for a short time about what she'd said, finally saying in reply, "I'd never do such a thing to you. I can imagine how ashamed she was." After another pause, I continued, "What happened then?"

Sharon had a very serious expression on her face as she answered my question. "Well, first off she had some of the men carry her husband to another room and tie him to a chair. He was left there until she had finished fucking as much as she wanted, and then she took him home. On the next meeting night, she and Joan took him to the back room, and they took care of the problem."

Her casual mention of the "back room" at the club immediately recalled to mind the last thing she's said as I fell asleep. As she'd known would happen, my curiosity was very much aroused, and I asked, "What do you mean? How did they solve the problem?"

She smiled, almost as if to herself, before answering, "Maybe I should have said that Joan 'fixed' the problem. I suppose that would be a more accurate description."

When she didn't say anything else in explanation, I asked again, "What do you mean? How was the problem fixed?"

Again she smiled, but more broadly this time. "I mean 'fixed', as in cats, dogs, and veterinarians. Now do you understand?"

To say I was shocked would have been putting it mildly. I was sure that I did indeed understand, but had to know for sure. I stammered, "You mean they. . . they. . . his. . .?" She broke in then, and laughingly said, "Yes, lover. I mean they castrated him. As in 'cut off his balls.' Is that clear enough?" She then began to laugh openly at my confusion.

I'm sure my expression was amusing, but I certainly wasn't feeling very humorous right then. Rather, I was intensely curious, especially knowing that she seemed to think I was ready for a similar visit. I tried to satisfy my curiosity by asking, "How did they do it? Did he just let them do it to him?"

Sharon became serious then, and replied, "They did it the old fashioned way: with a knife. As for him letting them do it, well I guess that would be the most accurate way to state it. My friend had told him that she simply couldn't live without fucking other men, and if he couldn't accept it, then she'd get a divorce. When he broke down crying, and said he couldn't live without her, she offered him another choice. Either he could lose her, or he could lose his balls. She gave him 24 hours to make his decision, and when he had, arranged for Joan to be there on the next visit. End of story."

It certainly wasn't the end of the story for me, and I said, "I suppose that lots of men would make that same decision, if given only those two choices. I know I would." At that she smiled and nodded, and I continued, "But wouldn't doing that to a man require a doctor, and maybe even a stay in a hospital?"

She replied, in a somewhat exasperated tone, "You men! Your whole world revolves around your crotch, doesn't it? Most men seem to think it'd be a major operation for them to be castrated. In truth, it's a very simple thing. One slice and two snips and the job is done. Stallions, bulls, rams, dogs, cats, etc., etc. are castrated every day, and I can assure you no doctor is required. It's exactly the same for a man. You're nothing special, you know. Balls are balls. Joan says it's a very quick and simple thing to cut off a man's nuts. It's the other thing that takes special care to remove."

This was getting more and more confusing, as well as arousing, to me as it went along. After thinking over what she'd said, I asked, "When you say 'the other thing', do you mean my penis? Joan said it'll be more difficult to cut off my penis? Is that what you meant?" Even as I asked those questions, I could feel my confusion being replaced with excitement. This conversation was getting very close to my favorite fantasy, and the fact that we were sitting here at the kitchen table and talking about it in such a straightforward manner, in broad daylight, was somehow even more arousing.

She smiled broadly then, with an intense look of satisfaction on her face, and I realized she was glad that I'd said "my penis", and not "a penis". Finally she continued, saying, "Yes. That's exactly what I mean. Does it shock you to know that women do such things to men? Or is it making your little dickie all hard because it's so close to your fantasy?" When I didn't say anything, she went on. "Women have been castrating men, and cutting off their cocks, for as long as there have been women and men. It's just such an easy way to control them, and it works so well, that we've continued to do it."

"When it comes to making a man more docile and accepting of his wife's lifestyle, then a good old-fashioned nutting can't be beat. If she wants to keep him excited all the time, and eager to serve her, then cutting off his little pecker is just the ticket. In the case of my friend, she said that about a month after he'd been castrated, her husband became very accepting of her lifestyle, and didn't ever try to interfere. If it'd been a case of wanting to make him more anxious to serve as her cum slave, and to be more of a slave to her in general, then Joan would have removed his penis, but left his balls."

When I said nothing, but just sat there with a stunned expression on my face, Sharon asked, "Does it turn you on to think of that being done to you?"

I couldn't stop myself from nodding my answer, because in truth it did indeed turn me on very much. She then continued, "If you think it'd be fun to have your balls cut off, just throw a fit at the club. I'll have you in the back room so fast you'll barely have time to spread your legs for Joan. On the other hand, if you want your little wee-wee cut off, then just be less than enthusiastic when I'm feeding you my tenth load. About a month with your balls pumping out sex hormones, but no cock to use to jack off, should make you lots more willing to act like a proper cum slave. Don't you agree?"

It took awhile, and several throat clearings for me to finally reply, "Yes. I'm sure what you say is true. It's just that I never thought something like that could actually happen." I paused then, to give myself time for thought, before continuing. "Have any of your friends had to do that to their husband? You know, the thing about removing his penis?"

She responded in a serious tone, "Actually, very few of the women I know in the club have used that method to control their husbands, and make them better cum slaves. I have to admit that most of them have never told their husbands about their Wednesday night meetings, so of course the need for a penectomy never came up, to coin a phrase." At that point we both broke into laughter at what she'd said, and then she went on. "Joan has been a member for several years, and she told me that she assisted during a penectomy about a year after she joined. It was performed by another member who was a surgical nurse, and Joan said that's where she learned the technique. She cut off a penis all by herself about five years ago, just because she couldn't stand the frustration she was feeling from not doing another one."

"She told me the excitement she felt that first time was almost overwhelming, and it's all she thought about when some man was fucking her. After a few years of fantasizing about doing another man, she couldn't stand it any longer, and so she took her husband to the back room one night and cut off his cock. She said it was even more exciting than when she'd helped do it to a stranger, and I suppose that's understandable. I'm sure it'll be lots better for me to cut off yours than some other man's, don't you?"

To say I was flustered then would be an understatement. So much of my fantasy had come true in the past few hours that I was almost in ecstasy when I thought about it. Now here was my very own wife telling me that she wouldn't hesitate to castrate me if I didn't behave while other men were fucking her. In addition, she seemed to be saying that she found it arousing to think about cutting off my penis, and wouldn't have any qualms about doing it whenever she wanted. It was almost too much for my mind to comprehend.

After a very long pause, I finally replied, "Yes. I'm sure it'd be more exciting for you to see mine being cut off. It's so close to my fantasy that I can't even think straight. Does that mean you've been thinking about doing that to me? Have you had that kind of fantasy too? You know, about cutting it off me? Last night you said something about me being ready for the back room. Does that mean you're going to take me down there and do that to me?"

She smiled lazily before replying, "To answer your first question: Yes, I've had fantasies like that for a long time. It's almost as if there is some sort of ESP going on between us, because the fantasy you told me about is pretty close to mine. As for me taking you to the back room and cutting off your little dickie, all I can say is that we'll just have to wait and see. It depends on how well you do at the next meeting. Maybe I'll just have you castrated instead." She smiled broadly then, seemingly amused to think of me whining for her to stop fucking another man. It wasn't amusing to me, because I knew with all my heart that I sincerely wanted to watch that, and would never do anything to stop it.

After a short pause, she said in a reflective tone of voice, "I can't believe I waited so long to finally get you to eat a fresh load out of me. You've been getting a little taste of other men's cum for a couple of years now, I suppose. But always before, by the time you had your tongue in me, it would have been a few days since I'd been fucked. Maybe it was that hint of strange semen that caused you to have your fantasies. Anyway, it's almost sad to think of all that time wasted. If I'd started you doing that right from the first, you would have long since been a real cum slave."

"You'll never know how many times I talked to the other women at the club, asking what I could do to get us at least talking about it, if not actually having your head between my legs licking up your snack. It was Joan who came up with the idea of adding my photos and video to the Website, and then trying to get you to look at them on your computer. I remember telling the photographer to be especially careful to focus in on my kitten when he showed my pussy leaking cum. I wanted to erase every last doubt in your mind that it really was your very own wife lying there. Guess it worked, huh?"

She gave me the most endearing smile I'd ever seen, and my heart melted as my love for her almost overwhelmed me. I realized then all the trouble I'd caused her by not being more forthright about my fantasies, and I regretted all the lost time. I said, "I'm sorry you had to do so much to make me act like a husband should. I should have been man enough to tell you years ago that I wanted to see other men fucking you, and then clean up after them. There's no excuse for me not doing so. I'm sorry."

She placed her hand on mine then, and squeezed it tightly. I could see a faint misting of tears in her eyes as she said softly, "You're the sweetest husband that ever could be. I'm sorry too that we didn't start doing this many years ago. When I think of all the big cocks I could have had, and all the cum you could have eaten, it just boggles my mind. But, that's water over the dam, isn't it? We're on the right road now, and let's move down it just as fast as possible, to make up for lost time. There are so many, many things I've wanted to do to you, and for you to do for me, and now it looks like they'll soon be happening."

I was finally able to swallow the lump in my throat, and said sincerely, "I'll do anything in this world for you. I'm sure you know that. It doesn't matter what it is. All you'll have to do is tell me what you want, and I'll do it. I promise." Again her eyes misted, and then we both sat in silence for a long time, sipping our coffee.

She then seemed to come out of her reverie, and looked directly at me, saying, "Now that we've finally discovered just how close our interests are, we can move much faster. I just know that you'll do everything I expect of you at the club in a couple weeks, and we won't have to castrate you. After a few more sessions, I think you'll be ready for the next step."

I nodded my head in agreement, and again assured her that I'd make her proud of me. I said I'd even beg the men to service her, and then beg her to allow me to do my duty, if that's what she wanted. I remember wishing then that we could go to the club right at that moment, because I wanted nothing more than to once again taste the wonderful juices she gave me, and to feel their incredible texture on my tongue.

We sat quietly sipping our coffee then, each lost in our own thoughts. After several minutes of pleasant silence, she said, "I was thinking just now of my fantasy that's so close to yours. Would you like to hear it?"

I very much wanted to hear it, and told her so. She made as if to begin, then hesitated. She said, "I think it'd be better to wait and tell it to you this weekend. One of the principles of training males is to use their sexual excitement as a control. You'll probably be lots more horny in three days, especially if you don't play with your little thingie in the meantime." She smiled at that, then continued, "That makes me think of another thing that needs to change around here. I want you to stop jacking off, unless I tell you to do so. There's no reason in the world for you to be constantly pumping away on your little toy, so I want it to stop. Can you do that?"

By that time in our relationship I was very much in thrall to her, and quickly agreed. I was secretly hoping that our new understanding would mean that I'd be allowed to serve her sexually much more often than in the past, and my orgasms would be just as many as before. At least, that was my hope.

She finished her coffee then and stood, saying, "Now, we both have other things to do. I'm going to fix something for our lunch, and while I'm doing that, I want you to clean the bathroom. It's about time you started doing some of the housework around here, don't you think? If I really do take you to the back room, then you'll come out of there as my true slave, and I'll want you to do all the housework. It'll be good practice for you to start some of your new duties right now, don't you think?"

I wasn't all that excited about being assigned housework duties, but my cock was in charge right then, and it was excited by the tone of command in her voice, which maybe promised that the next command would allow it to do something more sexual in nature. I left for the bathroom and started working.



WANDERING WIVES

Chapter 4

I won't bore you by relating what happened between that time and Saturday night. Suffice it to say that our lives continued in a manner that would have seemed unchanged to our friends and neighbors. We went to work; we came home; we lived exactly as we had for several years. The part that had changed was the sexual relationship between us, and that was something others didn't know about.

Sharon gave no indication that she was looking forward to the weekend nearly as much as I was. In fact, it was about all I could think of, and I'm sure it affected my work performance. However, I got through it, and finally Saturday arrived, and then Saturday night. It was then that our changed relationship came into play, and there was no mistaking the change.

When we prepared for bed that night, she said that I was to take a bath, and after I had soaked for awhile, she was going to shave my pubic hair. I was taken aback by that, but before I could ask why she wanted to do such a thing, she said, "I'm getting tired of you looking like some hairy ape. There is certainly no reason for you to have hair down there, and I want you to keep it shaved. Maybe it'll make your little wee-wee look bigger, too, but I doubt it. I'm sure nothing could do that. Once a pencil dick, always a pencil dick. Now get in the tub and start soaking."

My acceptance of our new relationship was evident then. With no objection whatsoever, I got in the tub and washed. I then lay back to soak, and allow my pubic hair to soften in the water. Sharon came in after about half an hour, completely naked. That surprised me, because it was rare for her to be totally undressed when out of bed. More than surprising, though, it was very arousing to me to see her like that. I won't try to convince anyone that my wife is a raving beauty, and she'd agree with me on that score; however, she is definitely attractive, and I know other men find her so. To see her standing beside me, totally nude, holding a pair of scissors in her hand, made my already semi-erect cock stand at attention.

She told me to stand, and then began trimming my bush. When she was satisfied with that, she applied shave cream and began shaving. Soon I was completely bare and smooth, and she pronounced the job complete. I was told to sit down in the water to rinse off, and then step out of the tub so she could inspect her handiwork.

She was still kneeling on the bathmat as I stepped out, and I had an instant image of her taking my cock into her mouth. She had other ideas, though, and wasted no time in telling me that I didn't look a bit larger, and that my penis was totally useless. When she picked up the scissors and placed the blades around the base of my dick, I thought I'd pass out with shock and arousal. Did she truly mean to cut it off me right then?

Over and over the images flashed through my mind of her squeezing the handles of the scissors, and then my severed cock falling to the floor. She brought me back to reality by saying, "Not just yet, sweetie. I'll let you keep it a little bit longer. Someday, though, it's going to have to come off. Now dry off and let's go to bed. I'll tell you a bedtime story." She laughed, and then stood and walked to the bedroom.

I followed as quickly as I could, my legs still weak from what had just happened. I just hoped her fantasy would be as arousing as what she had done in the bathroom, but knew that would be hard to top. It promised to be a very hot night.

Sharon had peeled down the covers before getting in bed, and then left them that way. She said she didn't want anything rubbing against my little stiffie and getting me all excited before she was ready, and I knew that just the slightest stimulation would certainly make it spurt. I lay down beside her, and then reached for the lamp to turn it off. She said, "No. Leave the light on. I want to be able to see how small you are while I tell you my fantasy."

As soon as we were both settled, she began, but unlike my story, hers was told in future tense. That somehow made it much more exciting to me, because it implied it was something she had been planning, and it was really going to happen.

"I'm going to take you to the club with me before much longer, and we're going to do something really special that night. As soon as we arrive, we'll get undressed right inside the front door. That's a rule there. No one is allowed to wear any clothing at all when in the club. It makes it so much easier for the women to choose their entertainment for the night, and it seems to excite the men, making their cocks easier to judge.

"I'll tie a cord around the head of your tiny little penis, and use it to lead you to the meeting room, where the real men are. As soon as we enter the room, you'll see about a dozen men standing there facing us. Their cocks will be standing at attention, ready and willing to service me in a way you never can. I'll point out how much bigger real cocks are than your pathetic little wee-wee, and you'll have to agree. Even though you crotch is shaved smooth, you still look to be less than half the size of the others.

"I'll choose three of the men. They'll be my favorites, based on past experience. One of them will be Dirk, who was in the photos you saw. He has a nice-size cock, although it's not the largest in the club. He certainly knows how to use it better than the others, though. He always makes me cum, sometimes several times during a session. He's a normal-looking white guy, and if you passed him on the street, you'd never know what was in his pants just from seeing him.

"The second man will be Fabian. He's Italian, and is covered with so much hair that he looks like an ape. His cock is a little larger than Dirk's, but he doesn't use it as well. He's the man in the video on the Website." I nodded and murmured something to confirm that I remembered him, and she continued.

"The third man will be Ray, the only black member of the club. His cock is far and away the biggest one there. It's more than twice as long as yours, and in terms of volume, it's probably three or four times bigger. The first time he fucked me, I truly thought I'd be split like a ripe watermelon. He never has been able to get the entire thing in me, but we keep trying. Sooner or later, he'll bottom out. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if the head sticks out my mouth when that happens." She laughed then, and I tried to join in, but somehow my arousal and excitement wouldn't let me. "Oh, by the way. It was Ray's load you were eating the other night. I've always thought he was especially tasty, and that's why I chose his cum to bring home to you then."

After taking a moment to catch her breath, she continued, "After I've made my selection, I'll lead you to the back room, with the three guys following. I'm sure your little wee-wee will be harder than ever as you think of all the wonderful fucking I'm soon going to get, and all the tasty cum stored in those huge nuts behind you.

"I'll lead you to the center of the room and order you to get on your knees. You'll hurry to obey, and then the men will stand in a line in front of us, their monstrous erections pointing directly at my pussy, and every huge sac filled with sperm waiting to find a home inside me. I'll tell you that you're going to help me have the best fucking of my life, and say that you're going to make sure every man there is at maximum size.

"I'll beckon to Dirk, and he'll walk up to stand right in front of you. I'll place one hand on his huge cock and the other behind your head. You'll realize then what is required of you, and you'll look at me with silent pleading in your eyes. I'll just laugh and say, 'Open wide, honey. Time for my little pussy boy to get to work.' The expression on your face will be priceless, and I'll laugh again. Finally I'll exert more force on the back of your head and push it toward the waiting cock. You'll finally realize there's no way out, and open your mouth. I'll guide the thing in, then tell you to run your tongue over it and suck.

"After you've enjoyed yourself for a few minutes, I'll lean back over the table and tell you I'm ready for my first fucking. I'll order you to lead Dirk over to me, and then after you've done so, to guide his cock to my opening. I've always thought it was especially exciting for a man to help his wife get fucked by a huge cock, and I'm sure it'll be that way for you.

"I'll tell Dirk to fill me just as soon as he can, because we have lots to do that night. He starts pumping away, and after a couple of minutes we hear him groan as he climaxes. I've decided that I won't cum when they're fucking me, since I want to save mine for later.

"As soon as Dirk pulls out, I'll tell you to kneel between my legs and have your snack. You'll be so hungry for a real man's cum by then that it won't take you long to clean me out. As soon as you're finished, I'll make you suck Fabian to get him ready, and then help him fuck me. Again, I'll try to keep from cumming, and again you'll lick and suck me clean when Fabian is finished.

"Ray will be last, and I just know you'll be amazed at the size of his cock. You won't be able to get very much of it in your mouth, since it's so big. I'm sure I'll have to yell at you to make you stop sucking him, and bring him to me. For the third time, you'll guide a monster dick into your wife's cunt, and then watch as she tries to take in every inch of it. When he fucked me last week, we got all but the last three inches inside, and maybe he'll be able to bury it this time.

"Again you'll clean me when his cock pulls out. I just know that holding back from cumming will be very hard to do, since I'll be thinking about what will come next.

"While you were doing your duty, Dirk will have gone to another room to get Joan. She'll be there when you finish swallowing the last delicious drops of Ray's cum, and you'll see that she's holding a metal tray, covered with a towel. We'll both stand then, and she'll ask me if you're ready. I'll say, 'Yes. I made him shave his crotch and take a last-minute piss right before we left. He shouldn't need to pee again for at least three hours.'

"She'll say, 'That's good. We should be done before then. Let's get him on the table now.' I'll point to the table where I had been lying so shortly before, enjoying all those wonderful cocks, and tell you to get up there on your back. You'll hurry to obey. As you look up, you'll see a cord hanging from a pulley in the ceiling. One of the men will untie the cord from a ring in the wall and lower it to the tabletop.

"I'll tie a slipknot in the end, then place it behind the tiny little head of your worthless cock, tightening it as much as I can. At my signal, the three men will begin pulling on the other end of the cord. You'll feel your useless little dickie being stretched farther than you ever thought possible, and will probably whine about it. I'll tell you to just shut up, because we're not going to stop until we're done with you.

"Soon you'll feel your butt being lifted off the table. You'll try to arch your back to relieve some of the strain, but that won't help a bit. The men will keep pulling, stretching your pathetic little dickie more and more, and lifting you higher and higher. When at last you're completely suspended by the little thing, they'll stop pulling and tie the rope to the wall once again.

"I'll tell you then that the time has come to make you my true cum slave. You'll know exactly what I mean, and it will excite you more than ever before in your life as you realize that finally your dream of getting rid of your worthless, useless, pathetic little penis is about to come true.

"As Joan sets the tray on the table beside you and removes the towel, you see what it was covering. There will be two lengths of wire there, and a pair of pliers. The thing that will fascinate you, though, is the large pair of scissors. They've been carefully sharpened just for this occasion, and the razor-sharp blades gleam in the lights. The tray also holds a hypodermic needle, with the syringe filled with a clear liquid. The final items are a couple of tiny needles, some surgical thread, and some antiseptic.

"I'll tell you, 'I've decided that I want to have a baby. I couldn't face the thought in the past of you getting me pregnant, since any son you fathered would inherit your pencil dick, and it would be cruel to make a child face such humiliation. Now that there are so many better choices here in the club, I've decided to let one of them put a baby in me. There's no way to know who the father will be until the baby is born. I'm hoping that it's Ray, since it would be priceless to see you pushing a brown baby down the sidewalk, telling the neighbors it's yours.'

"I'll tell you then why we've stretched your little worm before cutting it off, saying, 'Joan told me there's part of a penis that's inside a man's body. If I cut if off you while it's soft, then you'd have a stub when you got a hardon. I don't want you to have anything to play with, so that's out. She told me that if I cut it off when it was hard, you'd still have something there that you could rub to get off. Again, that's no good. The solution is to pull as much as possible out of you while it's hard, then cut it off just as close as I can to your body. She says that'll leave a hole when your stub is soft, and I think that's exciting. You'll have your own little pussy then, won't you? I think that'll be cute. Maybe one of the other pencil-dick husbands can fuck you there sometime. You'd like that, wouldn't you?' I'm sure you'll agree, and maybe even beg me to stretch you some more, just in case there's still a fraction of an inch inside your crotch.

"When we finally decide that every last bit is outside, Joan will hand me one of the wires. I'll wrap it a couple of turns around the base of the pitiful little thing, as close as possible to your body. After the ends are twisted together, I'll use the pliers to tighten the wire still more, until it sinks out of sight in your shaft. The second wire will be wrapped in a similar manner about an inch above the first, and then you'll be ready for the fun part.

"I'll pick up the scissors and show them to you. Maybe I'll cut a hair to show you how sharp they are. When we've enjoyed that as much as possible, I'll tell Ray to kneel in front of me and start licking my crotch. Maybe his tongue will be waving to his new baby while it licks me. That would be exciting for you to think about, wouldn't it?

"By that time, I'll be very close to cumming harder than ever before in my life. I want to time my climax with your cutting, so will have to be careful to get the scissors in position between the wires before I lose my concentration. As my orgasm builds, I'll place one hand on each handle of the shears and apply a slight pressure. You'll begin to whimper as you feel the razor-sharp cutting edges on your precious little dingus, and you'll stare at it to get one last look at your favorite toy.

"At long last, I'll feel the first wave of my orgasm sweep over me. I'll groan, and then slowly increase the pressure on the handles. As the blades enter your shaft, the blood trapped between the wires spurts momentarily, but then stops. By that time, I won't be able to hold back any longer. I'll close the blades, then watch your dickless body fall to the tabletop. At the same time, your severed cock will seem to jump free, and then swing back and forth on the cord, still erect. I'm sure I'll pass out from the force of my climax, and won't know what happens after that."

There are no words to describe the overwhelming lust that controlled my body by then. I know that several times in the past I had thought my body had reached the highest possible peak of arousal, but every one of them paled in comparison. I was unable to speak, or even to move. Rational thought was far beyond me. The brain in my head was completely shut down, and the one between my legs was in charge.

Sharon must have been just as excited, because she quickly mounted me. I can't recall her words at that time, other than she ordered me to fill her pussy. I certainly didn't need any urging to do just that, and began to cum before my tiny little dick was even halfway inside her. As soon as she sensed my last spurt, she moved to my head and began feeding me. Since the gobbets were so close to her opening, they were soon sucked out, and she returned to my crotch for the second load.

It took me several seconds to eject that one, and the pain that accompanied it was something I welcomed. As my dick spurted, I saw over and over her lovely hands squeezing the blades together. As I watched my severed penis dangling from the cord, I sucked my second load from her.

I'm sure Sharon climaxed also, but in my selfish concentration on my own lust, I missed it. I do know that she had been talking to me nearly non-stop while riding my dick and then my tongue. Most of the words were curses directed at my worthless little thing, and they just seemed to further inflame me.

My first clear memory is of her leaning forward, supported by her arms. I realized that my legs were drawn up, in an attempt to relieve the horrible burning pain in my overworked crotch. Finally she rolled off my face and lay beside me, breathing rapidly, as was I.

I don't know how long it was before we recovered enough to speak to one another. I do know that the first word uttered was me asking, "When?"

Her answer was equally simple, and it was, "As soon as possible."

After a pause, she said softly, "I'm going to stop taking the birth-control pills on the first day of next month. Joan says that it could take as long as a few weeks for me to get pregnant. As soon as I have my first period, which will mean the drugs are out of my body, I'll make the arrangements to take you down there. After that, I'm going to have the guys take turns coming here every night to fuck me. Hopefully I'll be pregnant before too much longer after that."

"I've decided that when you fucked me tonight, it'd be the last time ever. I won't let you do it when I'm off the pill, since you might accidentally get me knocked up. And after we've had you on the table, you won't be able to ever again fuck anybody, let alone me. I hope you enjoyed your last fuck. Now shut up, turn off the light, and go to sleep. I'm exhausted."

With that she turned her back to me, and in less than a minute I heard the soft snore that signals she has fallen asleep. I was also exhausted, but sleep was a long time coming. The pain in my crotch had subsided somewhat by that time, and I slowly moved my hand to my ball sac and began squeezing it as hard as possible to renew it. More than anything else, I wanted to feel the wires being drawn into the shaft of my cock, and then the razor-sharp blades cutting into it.

I relived Sharon's story many times that night, many times wishing she hadn't ordered me to stop pumping my pathetic little pee-pee. I wanted to make it cum over and over, with each spurt giving me agonizing pain. In obedience to her, I did nothing more than try to crush my worthless little nuts, but of course wasn't successful.

Finally I did manage to fall asleep, and my last conscious thought was a wish that the clock and the calendar would fly during the time between then and our visit to the club.

The End (or is it?)