Three years before
that fateful night- the night when Phil's gun was in Becky's murderous hands and Phil's cock was in my wife's insatiable pussy- Staci and I were ordinary newly weds searching for a house. What changed? What brought us from ordinary and wholesome to lustful and damned? It happened as I imagine an avalanche would- small seemingly insignificant pebbles of ice follow their own paths- paths set by a gravity they cannot resist. Eventually they gather momentum and more fragments. Then a thunderous ride that could either find a smooth landing or an abrupt crash. The first pebbles of ice that would lead to our cuckold avalanche started in the isolation of my head- fantasies I shared with no one. But on our Honey Moon, Staci began to join me in our tumble. And together, we found an unusual but exhilarating slope for our glides, falls, jumps, and spills- the cuckold's descent.
The core of a cuckolding relationship is made up of two basic elements- the electrons and protons of the cuckold atom. The first, is a "hot wife"- a sexually expressive, adventurous, and- most importantly- brutally honest woman whom other men crave. Honesty is extremely important. Too often
women fake it- never revealing or expressing the truth. The cold, not-so-hard truth that the dick they married ins't always the right tool for the job.
Staci is our electron, the beautiful element that swirls around, attracting other atoms with which to bind and form new rare, unstable molecules.
Shall I describe Staci as I see her? I suppose I could, but that wouldn't be very cuckold of me. Let me instead describe her as another man- in this case Phil- saw her for the first time.
A few months after our Honey Moon, Staci and I were looking to buy a house. By that point, we had begun our slide down the slopes into cuckold valley, and Staci was really getting the hang of playing with hung men. We were therefor primed and ready to find Phil and Becky who happened to be selling our dream house. And who sold what to who ended up being a rather complicated question.
...
"Stand up," Phil said, rather casually, I thought, in light of the tense, awkward circumstances. And with equal nonchalance, my beautiful wife rose at his command. Was I the only one with sweaty palms here?
Perhaps not. Becky, Phil's wife, remained on the couch to my right and was breathing rapidly. Though my eyes were locked on the scene Phil and my wife were creating, I could feel the couch cushion shift from Becky's frequent squirming. It made me feel a little better to have someone else roasting on the sofa with me. Becky and I always shared some kind of bond in that way.
Staci's five-foot-four frame (she would claim five-foot-five) was ominously overshadowed by Phil's monstrous six-foot-four (he would say six-foot-five). I know writer's like to exaggerate, but, in this case, take my word; Phil is some kind of beast- tall, wide, loud, proud, and strong. My delicate flower of a wife seemed terribly vulnerable within his grasp.
Staci was wearing one of her silky red blouses which covered a conservative portion of her neck but clung nicely to her shapely figure- out at the chest, in at the waist, and out again for those regions of her body that would soon be claimed by the best. Her black skirt fell to just above her knee, and her sculpted lower legs and ankles- still tanned from our honey moon- stood barefoot on the plush carpet.
Phil's tree trunk legs were planted in front of Becky and me while Staci faced all three of us. Her normally wide, expressive brown eyes narrowed with challenging contempt as she glared at Phil. He responded by gently brushing the bangs of her brown hair to the side of her face. His fingers then ran down, behind her ear, to where her hair finished at the base of her neck. It all seemed oddly tender until he said quietly, "If you don't like me now, just wait."
"Promises, promises," Staci said in a bored voice. This made Phil laugh. He began to pace slowly around my motionless wife. I was terrified, I was electrified, I was in agony.
"So your husband likes this kind of thing, does he?"
"He's not important now," she said. Sadly, her words couldn't have been more true. "I know what men like
you like, and that's what's important now."
"Men like me?" he seemed amused. "What kind of man am I?" he asked, still circling his catch.
"Overly confident, arrogant, and self-centered," she said sweetly. Then she gave a subtle lick of her upper lip. "Oh what ever could I do to please a man like you?" she asked with supreme sarcasm.
"So let's be clear," said Phil. "I get you three times- as long as I want you up to an hour- and in exchange we sell you this house at half price. That's the deal you are offering?"
"Yes," said Staci. "It really is a wonderful house." Phil chuckled as he paced around behind her again. "When do you want me?"
"I want to see you before I make my decision," he said.
"I'm right here," she opened her arms and smiled.
"Unbutton your blouse," he commanded, no smile on his face.
"Now?" she asked, sounding unsure for the first time.
"Your husband will love it," Phil said with a slight sneer. Of course, he was right. "Those are my terms. I want to see you first."
Staci blinked her orb-like eyes in a moment of uncertainty but then rallied. With a subtle glance at me that said "it's okay", she started to unbutton her blouse. The vivid red silk started to peel open exposing a tanned neck and a pink bra. A flat stomach soon followed down to the waist of her black skirt. Her perky breasts were poured into the pink C-cups looking overfull. My trained eye could see where the erect nipples pressed hopefully against the soft fabric causing my penis to press all the more hopefully against their boxer short prison. She began to slide the blouse off her arms, but Phil abruptly caught the garment and started twisting it behind her back.
"What the fuck are you-" Staci yelled while struggling to free her arms. I made to stand up but Becky shoved me back onto the couch with surprising force. Phil suddenly had one strong hand gripping both arms behind Staci's back while his other large hand was placed over her belly. Staci squirmed but was effectively immobilized.
What did
I do? I fidgeted a bit but basically just sat there- just sat there while my wife was being manhandled. I was so confused. Staci told me, during moments of candor, that she likes when a man takes control. Was this one of those times? Was Phil going too far? I never know where the line is or when the time is right for this kind of thing. But guys like Phil do- they can smell it. And for some reason, I trusted his instincts on this one.
Then Phil whispered something into Staci's ear. She stopped struggling and remained still. He whispered something else. There was a long pause, and then she gave a slight nod. Phil took his hand off my wife' s stomach and started reworking his impromptu knot behind Staci's back. It seemed the blouse was now tied to the strap of her bra, keeping both of her arms behind her, and her breasts thrust forward awkwardly but beautifully. Clearly the beast had done this before.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Phil asked me suddenly. That has always been the question, hasn't it?
"Ahh-" I stammered.
"A guy does
this to your wife right in front of you, and you just sit there?"
"Well I-"
"He's turned on!" Becky announced triumphantly, and she patted the small tent pitched between my legs. Her touch sent shock waves through my body that disappeared all too quickly. Staci gave me a sharp scowl. I felt awful.
"I just-" but I was interrupted.
"If we are to give you people as much money as you are asking, I gotta make sure things are as I want them." said Phil in a rather business like tone. "You," and he was looking at Staci. "are offering your body, right? You are offering your body like an object. So that means I get to treat it that way."
He placed his hands on either side of Staci's bra and lowered it exposing her gorgeous dark round aureoles and large erect nipples. He set the bra so that the hard upper ridge of the garment pressed against the fleshy underside of her tits. It looked a little uncomfortable for Staci but the overall effect was pretty stunning. With her arms behind her back and the bra pressing underneath, her tits were stuck out in gravity defying beauty. The man in me wanted to lunge forward devour her fleshy grapefruits and erect nipples. But the man in me has long been chained so I sat quietly, obediently.
Phil stood behind her and let his huge hands eclipse Staci's breasts. A steady red flush took over Staci's face as Phil's hand slid slowly and gently over each breast, alternating between probing with his fingers and pressing with his palm. Eventually Phil got each nipple between a thumb and index finger and began to squeeze, Staci let out a minuscule squeal but held her ground.
My cock was raging like fifty thousand volts were pumping through it. My breath was coming in short gasps and my sweaty palms were soaking marks through the knees of my jeans. I was in utter turmoil.
"One more thing to check," said Phil. He unzipped the side of Staci's skirt. It dropped abruptly to the floor revealing pink panties that matched her bra. I felt somewhat smug about the obvious wet excitement that marked the front and underside of the fabric.
And she scowled at my erection.
But feelings that didn't last. What always won in me was a feeling of relief. I suppose that is the closest emotion I can pin to it. Relief that Staci- my beautiful Staci- was getting the thrill she deserved, getting the better man she deserved. I was happy to know her pussy was burning with desire and anticipation.
"Enjoying this?" Phil asked Staci as he smiled at the visible moist.
"Are you?" she asked evasively but her face went a deeper shade of red. Phil suddenly reached up and pinched her right nipple. She squealed and tried to step back. Phil held strong, however and her breast stretched briefly to a cone-like point before she stumbled back into place. She then tried to free her hands but couldn't.
"Let go!" she yelled as Phil kept his relentless grip on her sensitive tip.
"I asked a simple and fair question. Enjoying this?" Staci squirmed for a few seconds longer before answering.
"It's... different." Phil grunted and let go.
"He likes her," Becky whispered in my ear excitedly. I had almost forgotten she was there.
Phil knelt down before the girl he apparently liked and looked at the damp panties that separated him from conquest. Once he was content he lowered them to her ankles, revealing the pussy that he would come to enjoy for the next three years.
Laser hair removal had left the pink mound smooth save for a tuft on top that was lighter than her actual hair. The vertical slit was slightly open with the warm, sweet, moisture I for some reason like to share. The tip of Staci's prominent clitoris was just visible through the folds. Staci stepped back out of her panties.
I had never seen her like this before. Her full body tan gave her skin a perfect warmth. I had always adored her breasts, but with her arms tied in that predicament and the askew bra bolstering them up, they took on a a much bolder, vulgar aura. Her face flush red with embarrassment and excitement. And her pussy was opening its symmetrical butterfly bloom right before our eyes.
Phil was on one knee watching the flower blossom. I think it was subconscious but Staci shifted her left foot- slightly away from her right, so as to open herself just a little more- I think anticipating or hoping for touch. This made Phil smirk and he stood up.
"We have a deal if ..."
"If what?" asked Staci sounding annoyed.
"Well, I just want a kiss."
"I think you've had enough fun," said Staci.
"Okay then," said Phil. "Thanks for stopping by." His tone seemed to say "No deal".
"Okay, okay!" said Staci. "Come here."
"Come here." Staci groaned and rolled her eyes but stomped forward, her arms still tied in red behind her back. Phil, being much taller, did not lower his head. Staci had to stand on tip-toe and press her full body against him to get the necessary height.
And then their lips met. Whether to ensure the deal or because she wanted to, Staci kissed him deeply and passionately. Phil placed his fingers softly on her chin while their mouths explored each other. When Staci finally stepped back, Phil's fingers softly traced down her neck, into her cleavage, and then abruptly away.
"Talk to Becky about the dates and details," Phil said as he turned and left the room in awkward silence.
...
And now you have met Staci, the electron in our cuckold atom, eternally bound to me, yet attracting and binding to other atoms to create many different- and occasionally explosive- reactions.
