My Husband's Adventures

by Alex Hathaway

  “I can feel it!” Jackson said. “I can feel you vibrating.”

  I couldn’t feel it, but I could tell I was going to have another decent cum if he fucked me, so I went along with it.

  Jackson wasn’t pounding too hard, but he was precisely pushing and withdrawing. Same angle, same thrust. I was fucking him back, not super hard, more curious than anything.

  And then I felt something. Just a little something, but an inkling, a tingle that started in my neck and traveled down my spine into my pelvic bone.

  “Oh, I’m about to make you squirt, Corrie!” He was smiling and laughing, happy to prove himself. I hated his arrogance and loved it completely.

  “Just like I made Donna squirt!”

  “Donna? Donna?!”

  Donna was an old friend I had become estranged from due to her devout Mormonism.

  “You fucked Donna?”

  “Yeah! She squirted all over me like a slut!” Jackson cackled.

  In my mind I flashed to Donna, a big-boned girl who pretended sex was only for man and wife, a six-foot-tall athlete who would utterly intimidate most men.

  Then all these women flashed into my mind, the ones Jackson had told me about, others he hadn’t, older married women he fucked while barely a man, all these women gratefully cumming all over him while their boyfriends and husbands and wannabe boyfriends stroked their little dicks somewhere else and prayed that something wasn’t wrong, or maybe that something was, something deep, deep down ….

  And that was it. The floodgates opened. It was slow motion, but I remember Jackson pulling me to him as rivers of fluid spurted out of my pussy, wave after wave. It was a huge release, beyond any kind of a cum, as if years of stress were balled up and then exhaled in a surge of pleasure. It was the best feeling I’d ever had.

  “You squirted!” Jackson said, forced to withdraw his cock as my pussy literally expelled him with the force of its fluids.

  “Good girl,” he said.

  I don’t remember exactly what happened next. I think I babbled to him about everything inside my strange, addicted heart. Then we tapered off. Jackson left me to get a drink—that much I recall. I remember lying in bed, thinking that my marriage had fundamentally changed.

  He owns you now.

  But … I have never been owned in my life, by any man! Certainly not in the bedroom.

  Doesn’t matter … he owns your pussy. And therefore, he owns you.

  But … this isn’t good! This gives him too much power.

  Maybe so, but it’s true. So live with it. Find your power elsewhere.

  Chapter 15

  The following days were interesting, to say the least. I expected Jackson to exert his newfound power over me. If he had demanded I quit my job and scrub the floors all day for him, I would have complied.

  But he didn’t. Jackson wasn’t a book-smart guy, but he could play these notes. Outside of the bedroom, he continued to pretend I was the one with the final word. That had a way of calming me down—making me feel like I hadn’t surrendered too much.

  But we both knew. Deep down, we knew. He had control now. And I hated it … except that I loved it. Well, my pussy loved it, anyway. Jackson now took me whenever he wanted. One morning, he simply fucked me as I was walking toward the front door. He bent me over the kitchen counter and violently fucked my pussy with my suit skirt hiked up as I clutched my coffee thermos. I screamed and screamed, confessing my sluttitude and how deep it went.

  But when the sex was done and my makeup hastily reapplied, it was back to the domestic façade of mutual respect.

  You might be thinking, Well, it was a strange way to fix your marriage, Corrie, but at least it worked. Alas, not so much. Aside from the persistence of lust, I didn’t feel much of anything. My sex life was not only reawakened, it was fundamentally transformed. I wanted Jackson like a schoolgirl; I came home from work with my panties already damp. All I could think about in every meeting and conference call was him bending me over and taking me. Sometimes I even masturbated in the bathroom stall on the top floor of our building.

  It was only in a quiet moment, like watching my daughter trying her first Kung Fu moves in the backyard, that I realized something was amiss. Feelings of normal momhood would surge through me, and my ice would crack—but only temporarily. The next morning Jackson would have me bent over any chair he felt like fucking me on. Was I headed down a road of total depravity, never to return?

  Aside from quiet moments with Chelsea, I was a full-time slut. I was living in a bunch of outtakes from Fifty Shades of Grey. Ecstasy without soul.

  Jackson didn’t lord his victory over me. Aside from the moments of animal conquest, he seemed to almost empathize, like he understood me somehow.

  So when Lisa started texting him behind my back, he didn’t keep it from me like he could have. He didn’t go over and fuck her like he could have. He didn’t tell me he was going to fuck her senseless and dare me to stop him.

  No, he did none of those things, though he could have done them all, and I wouldn’t have lifted a finger. Instead, he did something different: he got Lisa on the line and handed me the phone.

  Lisa was surprised.

  “Oh, hi …” she said, pretending it was normal to be texting and calling my husband.

  “Lisa, I think you’d better come over.”

  “Oh … okay.” She was clearly reluctant.

  “Jackson and I would like to … see you.”

  She paused, but I knew she couldn’t resist. We made a plan and hung up.

  “Jackson!” I called out to him. He was back in the garage again, fixing a busted gutter.

  “Yes, honey!” he called out.

  “Jackson, Lisa is coming over. I want you to be gone before she gets here.”

  “No problem,” he said.

  “And then I want you to come back over when I text you and fuck her till she can’t finish a sentence,” I said.

  Jackson laughed but said, “Okay, no problem.”

  A few minutes later, Jackson took off on his motorbike. It was an early spring day, finally warm enough for riding.

  I washed the dishes, as if that was the task you really needed to get done before your good friend came over to fuck your husband.

  As I over-scrubbed each dish, I thought about how annoyed I was that Lisa had gone behind my back to get to Jackson. But I didn’t feel distrust toward Jackson anymore.

  Now that he controls you, he has no reason to lie.

  It was true, and what’s more, it solved a very difficult problem between us—a problem no amount of heart-to-heart talks had ever been able to fix.

  But Lisa’s sneakiness still bugged me. She came in, looking a little sheepish. But beyond that, determined. I guess there was no turning back for her either.

  I sat her down on the couch, offering only ice water. I didn’t want her to feel too relaxed yet.

  “So, Lisa, you’ve been calling Jackson a time or two, huh?”

  Lisa crossed her legs. I couldn’t help but notice those telltale red heels, clicking against each other nervously.

  “Yeah, my car’s been giving me trouble, and I needed some advice on—”

  “Oh Lisa, just spare me.” I rolled my eyes. “I know why you were calling him.”

  Lisa’s face turned reddish brown in anger and embarrassment, but she didn’t deny it.

  What I did next surprised even me. I set my water down, went over to where Lisa was sitting, and straddled her.

  “Oh my god, Corrie …. What are you doing?”

  I kissed her, and not too tenderly either.

  Her eyes popped wide, but I could feel her kissing me back.

  I pushed her down on the couch, swinging my leg over hers as if I dominated girls all the time.

  Then I leaned over. “Lisa, I know you want to fuck Jackson again.” Not waiting for a reply, I worked my fingers right down under her little “fuck me” skirt and found my way toward her sticky slit.

  “Ohhhhh,” wa
s all she could say.

  “Oh yeah, your pussy is already all wet. You were thinking about Jackson fucking you all day, now weren’t you?”

  “Yes,” Lisa said helplessly, thighs greedy against my fingers.

  “Well, Lisa, guess what? I have some good news for you. I’ve decided that Jackson is too good a fuck to keep to myself. So I’m going to let you fuck him again, but under a couple of conditions.” I worked another finger up and down her slit and poked one gently inside.

  She was in no position to argue, but asked anyway, “What conditions?”

  “Well, first off, if you ever want to fuck Jackson again, you have to go through me. Think of me as Jackson’s pimp; you make appointments. You never go around me. And you never fuck him when I’m not there.” I put my weight on her body for emphasis. I thought I saw a quick flash of fear in her eyes. Was I that crazy? “Not unless I say so,” I continued, rotating my hand against her clit. I’d been with a couple of girls in college and knew how to handle a girl like Lisa.

  “Okay,” said Lisa expectantly.

  “But there’s another condition,” I said.

  “Anything!” Lisa moaned as my fingers found her spots …. Now we were getting somewhere.

  “I want you to confess how much better he is than Nick.”

  Lisa blushed.

  “I mean it, Lisa!” I said, pulling my fingers out of her as she exhaled.

  Lisa looked defeated. But maybe a little relieved too. “Oh god yeah, he fucks me so much better,” she said.

  “That’s right,” I said, putting my fingers back inside to encourage her.

  “I’ve never cum so much or so hard in my life,” she continued, warming to the subject. It’s like he can feel what my body needs before I even know it.”

  “And then he gives it to you exactly the way a slut dreams it can be, right?”

  “Oh god, yes!” Lisa said. “He makes me feel like such a woman. Oh god, I need it so bad!” she cried. I could feel her body responding as I worked the inner walls of her pussy, her body pulsing under my hand.

  “And what else, Lisa, what else?”

  “I …” she drew the word out.

  “Lisa, just say it, or Jackson won’t be fucking you again.”

  She was too worked up to hold back now. “His dick is just so much bigger!!”

  “That’s right, Lisa. Just admit how good it feels. There’s no shame in being a slut for Jackson.”

  “It feels so much better inside me!” she said. “Size shouldn’t matter this much!” she groaned. “I mean I’ve never, ever cum from intercourse, much less squirted on a cock!”

  “Have you tried to fuck Nick since you were with Jackson?” I asked, putting my weight back down on her firmly to make sure she knew I expected the truth.

  “Yes,” she said, crestfallen. “I tried…” she continued.

  “But …” I said, helping her along.

  “I could barely feel anything,” she confessed.

  I started working her clit with ferocity, sensing she was getting to a fever point.

  “He felt so little compared to Jackson,” she said, desperate to cum. “And he didn’t ….”

  “What, Lisa?”

  “He didn’t know what to do to make me his. Jackson, he just … conquered me.”

  “That’s better!” I said approvingly. “Tell me why you’re here today, Lisa, then we’ll make that pussy cum, get it nice and warmed up for Jackson.”

  “I’m here to get fucked by a real man!” Lisa said.

  “That’s right,” I said. “You need it so bad you will cheat on Nick whenever Jackson snaps his fingers.”

  “Oh god, yes!” Lisa yelled out.

  “Who owns your pussy, Lisa?”

  “Jackson does … Jaaaackson does ….” She was starting to lose it, and to be honest, I was too. My husband has one millionth the wealth of Donald Trump, but I ask you, who is the more powerful man? He didn’t just have me, he had my friend ready to cheat whenever he snapped his fingers. And it didn’t stop there. My pussy was tingling and steaming.

  Lisa wasn’t faring any better. A little more friction and it would be all over for her; she was putty in my hands, humping wildly against me, cumming like crazy.

  I wished I had a big thick penis like Jackson. I would have spread her immediately and put it in her.

  But that would happen soon enough. Thirty minutes later, Jackson’s motorbike sputtered its arrival. In another ten, he was fucking Lisa good.

  “Oh my god, Jackson, put it in me, I want to feel it!” Lisa pleaded, and they were off, her ass wiggling in the air as he got behind and owned her.

  I even let her watch me and Jackson fuck when she needed a rest. It was hot to watch Lisa work her clit with abandon while I rode Jackson until I shook. I even showed her how I could take Jackson all the way in a couple of positions, letting him slam into me like he couldn’t with her; she still couldn’t take the last inch or so of his big dick. The cums were amazing.

  I let her put the condoms on Jackson; it was seriously hot to watch her shyly coax that condom over his big dick. She got such a big kick out of opening a Magnum XL condom wrapper, she asked me to take a picture of her doing it. I hoped Nick wouldn’t check her phone.

  Chapter 16

  This arrangement went on for a month, with Lisa texting me almost every day—nasty, hot texts. I would make her confess over and over exactly why she wanted Jackson, and what she wanted to do with him.

  I didn’t let her fuck Jackson nearly as often as she would have liked. It required planning to get our daughter out of the house, and we couldn’t just leave Chelsea alone while we played sex games.

  When I finally felt an emotion rock through me, it wasn’t a happy one. It was sparked by Jackson and Lisa getting ready for their tenth fuck session. “God, I think you’ve ruined me for my boyfriend,” Lisa said admiringly, watching Jackson’s thick cock twitch and rise in her hand, getting him ready for his condom.

  Now it was Lisa who wanted to skip the oral sex and get straight to the fucking. Her pussy was so ready on the days she saw Jackson.

  And that was starting to worry me. But the deception and the odd arrangements didn’t bother Lisa one bit. She was feeling triumphant, because after their fifth fuck session, she could finally take Jackson’s cock all the way. Now he could fuck her at a whole new pain/pleasure threshold.

  But the more Lisa wanted Jackson’s cock, the more he teased her and made her beg for it.

  “No fair!” Lisa cried out as she thrust her hips higher, searching for the head of his cock. Jackson laughed as he slapped his cock loudly on her stomach, just out of reach of her pussy.

  Lisa watched him intensely, fiddling with her clit while I worked to get the condom over the head and onto the rest of his cock. With that, Jackson had his cockhead up against her, and then came that gratifying “plop” when it went inside her. Lisa immediately started fucking him; she was desperate to start cumming.

  “What’s wrong, Lisa? Nick not looking after you?” I teased. Lisa put me on ignore and looked up to Jackson with urgency.

  “Take it slow, baby,” Jackson said, holding her hips down, clearly enjoying the look of surprise/fear/awe on the face of this woman who had men chasing her from dawn to dusk. Like a virgin, indeed.

  Jackson had a deliciously savage way of making each time just like the first. He knew when to be tender, and just how many lines to cross. Somehow he could straddle that improbable fence between gentleman and ruthless orgasm taker. If only more men knew that secret!

  Lisa propped herself up, eager to see how much of Jackson’s cock she could take.

  “Give me the whole thing!” Lisa implored.

  “Patience, my little slut, patience,” I said, taking Jackson’s lines for my own. “That’s it,” I hissed into her ear. “Just relax into it; it’s always a bit of a struggle at first.”

  But it wasn’t too much of a struggle. Lisa didn’t even seem to feel pain as he slowly but decisi
vely bottomed out, holding her there as the first precums started rippling through her legs.

  “Jackson, wow,” Lisa said, “I can really take it now … I can take all of that big cock!”

  Now Jackson was done with gentle fucking. He started pounding into Lisa with no further precautions, working his way up to that vigorous pace that brought the husband-betraying sensations.

  “Oh damn … damn … you feel so good inside me!” Lisa cried.

  As he accelerated his thrusts, Lisa bucked more and more. She was cumming continuously, releasing the pleasure in waves. Although she had discarded her heels long ago—Jackson was sick of the souvenirs they left on this back—she still banged her bare heels and flailed on him with her fists like a madwoman.

  That’s when Jackson took complete control, really working her over.

  “Fuck, fuck!” Lisa reached around Jackson and pulled his ass into her. Jackson didn’t have to fuck too spastically to make pussies cum. That meant he could balance speed with power and rhythm, in and out, in and out.

  Lisa was starting to move toward a big Cum—a capital C kind of Cum—trembling and bucking. “Oh, I’m cummming!! Fuck that feels good,” she cried as she gave her pussy to Jackson once again.

  “How does it feel to have a real cock inside you?” Jackson taunted her.

  “Oh fuck, it feels so incredible! God, I need your dick so bad!!” Lisa’s words became unintelligible, happy/lusty grunts. Meanwhile, my own pussy was squirming for attention. Is that what I was like when I finally got used to taking Jackson’s cock all the way? I wasn’t sure, but I could remember how I felt afterward. Fucked out, empty/full, sore, and obsessed with getting him inside me again.

  Just like it was for Lisa, it was for me. I thought about it when I was jogging; I thought about it when I was presenting to clients. And I definitely thought about it when men unsuccessfully hit on me or shied away.

  I can remember grabbing Jackson’s cock in public, and whenever I could, servicing him in some way, completely out of control, sucking him when there was no time to fuck—anything to worship his cock. I even sucked him in my best friend’s living room after sending her out for beers, not caring who would walk in on us, almost hoping she would. Ah, to be young again!