I shook my head frantically. “No! She’s not like that! Not anymore!”
There was a sudden cheer from inside, loud enough to be heard over the thumping bass. The whole house must be cheering. What the hell was going on inside? What were they doing to Kim?! Without thinking, I stepped forward.
A hand pushed me in the middle of the chest and I went sprawling backward. “Piss off,” the black guy told me. “I ain’t tellin’ you again. Don’t make me kick your ass.”
And then it got worse. Antonio tilted his head and looked at me, as I lay on the ground. “Hey...don’t I know you? Weren’t you at college with us? Lew. Louie...Louis?!”
The black guy just frowned.
“You remember,” said Antonio, punching his arm. “Little wimpy kid. We caught him with that porn mag one time.”
I bristled. I remembered that. They’d shaken out my bag all over the grassy quad, right in front of a gaggle of girls. The porn mag I was carrying to swap with Hugo had gone blowing across the grass, with me chasing after it, red-faced, the derisive shouts of the girls in my ears.
“No way did you wind up with Kim,” the black guy told me. “You’re probably her stalker or somethin’. Shit, I should kick your ass just for sayin’ that you’re with her.”
I slowly stood up, shaking my head in dismay. When I’d decided to come to the reunion, I’d imagined these guys gasping in awe when I walked in with Kim, almost not believing that I’d wound up with her. It had never occurred to me that they’d literally not believe it, and that my stupid plan would trap me outside while Brad seduced my wife inside.
The black guy did a mock-lunge towards me and I jerked back. Both guys laughed. And from inside the frat house came another huge cheer.
What the hell was I going to do?
Chapter 8
I slunk out of the gate and pretended to be walking off down the street, thinking hard. Brad and Kim hadn’t looked around--they didn’t even know I’d followed them to the frat house. My wife thought I was heading home on my own. And that meant she’d feel free to do whatever she liked with her ex-boyfriend. Hell, even if she didn’t do anything, I’d never be sure.
I had to know. I had to get in there.
I went down the street a few more houses and then cut across a darkened yard. I nearly tripped over a hosepipe in the gloom and then struggled to get over the fence at the rear, but then there was a little more light from the streetlights and I managed to scuttle across the lawn. Soon, I was behind Brad’s frat house. The back door was closed and probably locked, so I crept around to the side.
I peeked through a window and caught my breath as I saw my wife dancing with Brad. Although dancing is a polite word for it. She had her back pressed to his front, her ass grinding against his groin. Her eyes were closed and the two of them were flexing sinuously together. His arms were around her waist and, every now and then, he’d sneak his hands up to her breasts and smooth the material of her dress over them. She’d sort of squirm in his grasp when he did that, grinding herself even harder against him. And every time her material tightened across her breasts, her nipples stood out, clearly visible even from a distance. Brad had left her bra on the library floor, I remembered.
Everyone else was standing in a circle around the couple, clapping and cheering and--
Wait.
Where were all the women? What sort of a party was it where all the guests were men?!
There were twenty or thirty of them, all roughly my age—so I guessed they were all ex-fraternity members. I watched, pale-faced, as they ran their eyes over my wife’s twisting body. The shape of her gorgeous breasts was obvious in the tight, halter-neck dress, but each time Brad ran his hands over them, they bulged even more alluringly. The guys were inching closer and closer. They wanted her...all of them. God, they all wanted to--
I realized my cock was hard. What if I just stay here? a voice in my head whispered. What if I just stay here and watch? Watch as my wife was...what? Gang-banged? Surely it wouldn’t come to that. She wouldn’t do that...would she? And yet, judging by the expressions on the guys’ faces, that’s exactly where they wanted it to go. All of them had beers in their hands and there were crates more on the floor. It really was like a frat party, only with unlimited access to alcohol--no fake IDs needed here. And my wife seemed to have been lined up by Brad as the entertainment.
I had to get in there. I had to stop this!
There was no way in on that side of the house. I ran around to the other side and, to my relief, I found a small open window. It was frosted glass, so I guessed it was a bathroom. There was no way that one of the jocks could have fitted through it, but I managed to squeeze through. There are some advantages to being small, I thought triumphantly.
I wriggled through headfirst and discovered I was indeed in a small bathroom. I was coming out right above the toilet...and there was nowhere to grab onto. I leaned down further and further, teetering with my groin on the window ledge, my stiff cock rubbing against the sill. With no choice, I planted my hands on the rim of the toilet to take my weight, and scrambled through with my legs.
It was an awkward maneuver made worse by my panic. As my feet skittered inside I tried to jump down to the floor, but my feet splashed down into the toilet bowl. Eww! Thankfully, the last person had flushed.
Just as I crouched there, catching my breath and trying to get to my feet, the door opened. It was Antonio, the Latino guy from outside. Shit! “Greg!” he shouted over his shoulder.
The black guy I’d seen before barged in behind him. Greg--yeah, that was his name. When he hadn’t been playing football, he’d DJed a lot of the college parties.
Antonio hauled me out, grimacing at my dripped foot. “What the fuck, Louis?” he asked. “Now we gotta kick your ass.” Greg grabbed my other arm and they trooped me through the hallway. No! I was going to be taken outside and beaten up...and my wife was going to wind up doing God-knows-what with the frat guys.
As we passed an open doorway, I saw her again. Brad was still behind her with his arms around her, but now Rick was in front of her. His hand was raised to her cheek, turning her gently to face him, and he was leaning in to kiss her. And from the way she was lifting her head to him and closing her eyes, she wanted it. I could see Brad smiling behind her, enjoying the scene. God, was this what it had been like at college--had he shared her with his buddies?!
“Kim!” I yelled as the two guys dragged me past. But she gave no sign of having heard. And then we were at the front door--
“Wait.” Brad’s voice from behind us. Antonio and Greg obediently reversed course and dragged me back to the living room doorway.
“Louis,” said Brad with great satisfaction. He let go of Kim and gently pushed her forward, towards Rick. “Come join the party.”
Antonio looked confused. “For real? You want Louis here?”
Brad grinned. He stepped up close to me, out of earshot of Kim, and slapped me hard on the shoulder. “He’s Kim’s husband.”
Greg’s jaw dropped. “You’re shittin’ me! Him?!” His eyes flicked between me and Kim. She was kissing Rick, now, her arms around his waist. She didn’t seem to even know we were there.
“He brought her here tonight,” Brad told them, “to show us how great he was. Showing her off like a sports car.”
Antonio shook his head. “That’s a shitty way to treat a woman,” he said.
Greg nodded soberly. “If I had a woman like that, no way would I treat her like a fucking possession.”
I knew they were mocking me. I remembered how these guys had talked about women, back at college, how they’d used and dumped their girlfriends. Hell, that’s how I’d wound up with Kim in the first place, because Brad had dumped her yet again...unless he’d been serious about Kim lying about that part.
And yet, even as they mocked me, I knew they were at least partially right. I’d tried to lord it over my former bullies and the whole thing had backfired on me. This was all my fault.
&
nbsp; And then it got even worse.
“Turns out,” said Brad, “Louis here likes to watch. He likes to watch while a real man takes care of his wife.”
Antonio’s eyes opened wide--he looked as shocked as I probably had when Brad had first said it. But Greg’s reaction was very different. His eyes narrowed and he smirked. “Does he, now? Well, shit. That makes a lotta sense.” He turned to Brad. “I knew a guy like that. He was all eager to have his wife fuck a black guy, in front of him. ‘Cept, once she got a taste of my cock, she didn’t want her hubby anymore.” He leaned close to me, emphasizing every word. “I...fucked...her...but good. I even did that lily-white ass of hers. Did her right in my recording studio, with him on the other side of the glass, beggin’ and moanin’ me to stop, while she was beggin’ and moanin’ me for more.” He laughed. “Christ, I even knocked her up.” He turned to Brad. “You goin’ to do that with Kim?”
My jaw was hanging open. He had to be making all that up. He couldn’t really have got some poor guy’s wife pregnant, could he? I looked up at his huge, muscled body. And, unbidden, an image swam into my mind of Kim on her hands and knees, this black brute thrusting into her from behind. Black guys were meant to be hung...was that true? God, maybe he was even bigger than Brad. Maybe he’d stretch her. I wanted to be sick. And yet I’d never been more turned on in my life.
“Nah,” said Brad. “I don’t think we need to go that far.” Then he muttered something under his breath that I couldn’t hear, and Antonio and Greg both laughed. What? What did he say?!
I shook my head. “No! I don’t want this!”
Greg laughed. “Yeah, the guy I knew said the same damn thing, over and over. But his cock was hard the whole time.” He looked down at my groin. “Same thing here.”
I shook my head, but I could feel my cock tenting my pants. “Please!” I begged.
Brad clapped me on the shoulder. “Look at her,” he told me. And he pointed to where Kim danced, surrounded by guys. Rick was still kissing her and, as I watched, his hands lifted slowly to her breasts. My wife gave a soft moan as his hands began to squeeze and rub. Another guy was dancing behind her, rubbing his groin against her ass. “See, Kim likes to have fun. We had plenty of fun with her at college, and it seems like she wants another taste of it this weekend. So why don’t we get you a beer,”--he grabbed a bottle of beer and pushed it into my slack hand--”and you sit back and enjoy the show?”
“Yeah,” said Greg. He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “See, I never got a piece of her myself, back in college. A few guys did, but not me. But man, I always wanted to. So I’m going to work that sweet white ass tonight, Louis. Give it another half hour and she’ll be naked, right in the middle of us all. Then it’ll be one of us, fucking her on the couch. Then two of us, on the floor. Then...did you ever see a woman with three guys in her?”
I shook my head to shut out the image. No! Not Kim! Not my sweet Kim!
Greg slapped my back. “Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll get her back tomorrow.”
Brad whispered in my other ear. “But she might be...different.”
“Wet,” said Antonio, leaning in, his eyes gleaming.
“Stretched,” said Greg.
“Used,” said Brad. “Not sure she’ll still want you and your little dick, but...well, that’s not our fault.”
“STOP!” I gasped. “I--I’ll do anything,” I said weakly. “Please! I’ll give you money!”
Brad frowned, mock-offended. “We don’t want your money. Do we want his money, guys?” The other two shook their heads. “See, I make pretty good money from my company, Louis. Oh, I know it might not be as high-flyin’ as your job, but I bet I make more. And Antonio, here, he damn near runs one of the biggest prisons around. And Greg--well, he’s a big-shot record producer. So I don’t think we need your loose change.”
I was dying inside. It seemed like there was nothing I could do. I stared at my wife. She seemed to be lost in a daze of lust and memories. She was with her ex-boyfriend, who had an undeniable sexual hold over her, and a whole room full of hot, muscled guys, some of whom, it seemed, she’d fucked before. Who knows what she’d do?
“Kim’s going to get fucked,” Brad told me. “That was always going to happen, right from when you walked into that sports hall tonight. But you get to decide how many guys fuck her.”
My head snapped around to look at him.
“See, I always liked Kim,” he said. “You could say I hold a candle for her. So I’m kinda temped to just take her upstairs, right now, to my room and fuck her there and call it a night.”
My stomach turned at the thought of my most hated enemy between my wife’s thighs...but it would be infinitely better than watching her become the centerpiece of a gangbang. I suddenly saw how cleverly he’d set this up. By presenting me with a much worse option, he’d made the idea of Kim fucking him actually appealing. I looked across at Kim. Rick had his hands on her legs, now, and was inching her dress up her thighs. The guy behind her was toying with the dress’s halter strap. In another minute, that dress would be on the ground. “Yes,” I said quickly, through gritted teeth. “Yes, I want that.”
“What?” said Brad. “What was that, Louis?”
I closed my eyes. He wanted me to ask for it. I couldn’t. Not Brad. Not after all those years of humiliation. But when I opened my eyes again, Rick had my wife’s dress up to her hips. I glimpsed her panties. “Please,” I croaked. “Please take her upstairs.”
Brad shook his head. “No,” he said. “Tell me exactly what you want, and sound like you mean it.”
It’s impossible to describe how much I hated him. But the guy behind Kim was lifting the halter strap, preparing to hook it over her head so that the dress could be slipped off. “Please, Brad,” I said, each word drawn from my chest like a sliver of jagged glass, “please, fuck my wife.”
Brad leaned into me. “Okay, Louis, old pal,” he said, slapping my back. “If that’s what you want.” And he stood and walked over to Kim. The guy behind her quickly stepped away, dropping the strap he’d been holding. Rick stepped back, too, glaring a little at being denied his prize. But he didn’t argue. Even amongst all the other ex-footballers, Brad’s status was supreme.
Kim finally opened her eyes and turned to us. For the first time since I’d arrived, she saw me. “Louis!” She flushed. “I thought you’d--What are you doing here?”
Brad put his arms around her from behind. “Louis came to watch,” he said, grinning at me from behind her.
My eyes went wide. No! That wasn’t true! I’d come to stop all this!
Brad nuzzled my wife’s neck. “In fact, he just asked me--begged me--to take you upstairs. Isn’t that right, Louis?”
Too late, I saw the trap he’d set for me. If I denied it, he’d have Antonio and Greg throw me out of the party and the night would continue without me. Maybe he’d fuck Kim. Maybe he’d let his buddies gangbang her. Maybe nothing would happen at all. But I’d never know.
If I wanted to stay in any sort of control, I had to agree to it, right in front of my wife. And then she’d think I wanted it and be more likely to do anything Brad suggested to her. What if all the talk about fucking her and gangbangs was just that--talk? What if it was all bullshit and she would have done no more than kiss a few of them and let them feel her up? By agreeing to this, I could actually be making it happen.
I glared at Brad, but he just grinned back at me. He wasn’t going to help me make the decision. This was all up to me.
“Louis?” asked my wife, her eyes huge. ‘Is that really what you want?”
I tried to analyze her voice. Did she sound hopeful, or nervous? Turned on, or ashamed? It sounded like all of those.
I looked between her face and Brad’s. I looked at the roomful of horny, beered-up guys.
“Yes,” I told Kim. “Yes, that’s what I want.”
Chapter 9
I trudged upstairs behind Kim and Brad, leaving a disgruntled crowd of guys behind
us. Again, though, no one argued with Brad. And Antonio and Greg actually snickered and slapped me on the back as we went upstairs. That really worried me. I’d thought I was choosing the lesser of two fates...but what if somehow this was worse? Or what if Brad double-crossed me and took Kim downstairs again after he’d finished with her….
I shook my head. One problem at a time.
Upstairs, Brad’s room--like my dorm room back at the campus--had only recently been vacated. This guy, though, had preferred posters of semi-naked women over bands, and there were football pennants from the college team. It was the same fraternity, after all, and would still attract the same sort of guy. The room had probably changed very little since Brad had lived there.
Brad motioned for me to close the door behind me and I did, glad to shut out the sound of the party beneath us. I was still feeling ill at the thought of what might have happened if I’d left Kim down there. And yet what was about to happen was just as terrifying.
Kim sat down on the edge of the bed. She licked her lips nervously, looking up at Brad as he approached. He made a sort of shh-ing noise, smoothing her golden hair back from her face as he took a seat beside her. She arched her back as his hand continued down her back.
I had to try, one last time, to head this off. Now that it was just the three of us again, maybe she’d listen to reason. “Kim,” I said. “Please. Let’s just go home.”
She just stared at me, her eyes hooded.
“Please!” I begged.
“You wanted this,” she said. Her voice was low and husky. “You said downstairs you did.”
“Yes, but only to--”
“And you’re hard,” she said, pointing at my groin. “You’re hard, just imagining me and Brad together. Aren’t you?”
I could feel my erection tenting my pants. “Yes, but--Look, he had your chance with you. He dumped you! He broke your heart!”
Cuckolded at the College Reunion Page 6