Under Her Cuntrol, Part 3. - Sex Stories

Under Her Cuntrol, Part 3.

... earlier, on the stairs, fucking her like a rag doll; her words are now mine. She told me that was the first time Martin had been at her.

I couldn't play fuck with her or even look at her; everything she said in her defense about how we all wanted it and how we all planned it was true.

Martin could see that Sue was getting off on it; that was bad enough. Martin knew—I knew—that he had fucked my wife; he was smirking. What was going on between me and Sue was getting him aroused, watching her in her bare feet, facing me down, humiliating me. It was a huge turn-on for Martin to have shagged his best friend's wife. More so, as he knew how wet Sue was every time he got his frigging hands on her and how Sue had opened up for him when he was entering her.

Back to what he was always saying: "Size does matter." If a size 9 guy is a regular visitor to a size 7 cunt, he will stretch her until she becomes comfortably fit for her size 9 lover. The problem is, I'm a size 3 now; I used to be a 5, but I wasn't even touching the sides when Sue was a 7. What am I going to do now? Sue has been stretched to size 9, six sizes too big for me; that's what caused the ED problem I have now. I could see he wanted to fuck Sue again; worse still, I thought she would be up for it.

All I could think was, do I want him to fuck her again, or should I do the caveman thing and drag her out of here by the hair to show that "I'm her man"? But that wouldn't go well, certainly not with Sue.

Martin ...

... must have been staggered to see me walk out of the house, leaving Sue with him! I'd be amazed if he didn't fuck her again. There and then, maybe he did. That's one thing Sue never admitted to, and I wonder why. She would have had to go back upstairs to get her tights and shoes. I'm sure Martin would have followed her and fucked her again, and maybe again—what else were they doing for the next four hours?

Odd how I wasn’t raging about it when Sue came home; four hours later, there was no point fighting over spilled milk that Martin had spilled inside her. I'd calmed down by the time Sue came home. All I could think about was whether he had fucked her again. Had I made a big mistake by leaving her with him? Why did I do that? What were they doing for four hours before Sue came home?

But I'd calmed down after rubbing myself to a climax thinking about Martin shagging her. Cocaine couldn't have gotten me higher that afternoon. I'd been teased and tormented that day and every day since. That gave Sue absolute power and control over me.

It took me a week before I had the nerve to speak to Martin again, but the dust had settled by then. I'd talked it over with Sue; I wanted him back on Sue as much as she did. I met Martin in the pub; it was an awkward moment at first, until I told him I was OK with it. That got things back on track for us all. The thing is, I'm addicted to the raw excitement I feel now watching Martin fucking Sue.

Cuckolding is kind of like cocaine, for ...