This story presumes you have read Parts 1 and 2, but I’m confident you’ll figure it out even if you haven’t. These are dirty stories, not rocket science!
The knocking at the front door was becoming insistent. I hurriedly snapped the tie into place under the collar of my white button-down shirt and straightened my far-too-short, pleated plaid skirt. “Coming,” I called.
I glanced at my husband, Adam, who nodded approvingly. “Thank you,” he said.
I was only a few minutes removed from having been fucked by a stranger, and I was on my way to open the door to another strange man who was going to do it again. “The things we do for the people we love,” I thought, cum still flowing from my pussy, as I finally answered the knock.
“Damn,” said the man on the other side. “He showed me your picture, but . . . damn.” Apparently he couldn’t think of anything else to say. I almost used my veto power and told him to get lost, but I thought of Adam, and how much this meant to him, and instead invited this man in to help me cuckold my husband—again.
“So what’s the story this time?” I asked. Adam had obviously given my previous partner at least the outline of a plot to follow, and I wondered what this guy had been told to do.
“Yeah, you know, what scenario did Adam give you?” This one didn’t seem too bright, and he was definitely older than the first guy, although not unattractive. I didn’t hold out high hopes.
“Oh, right,” he said, tearing his eyes away from my chest, which was straining my too-tight shirt. “You’ll forgive me for being distracted, I hope. I’m supposed to be the principal who punishes Adam’s slutty girlfriend.”
“Right. Hence the reason I’m dressed like vintage Britney Spears,” I thought. “Well, let’s get going.” I led him into the bedroom where Adam was waiting.
Once inside the room, I was astonished at how quickly the new man got into character. Gone was the slightly dim milquetoast I had met in the living room; he had been replaced by a stern authority figure, ready to do business. He seated himself on the bed, and told me to pull over a chair facing him.
“Do you have any idea why you’re here today, young lady?” he began. I shook my head.
“So you don’t see anything wrong with screwing half of the football team and then being caught in the Art Room with Mr. Nelson’s dick in your mouth . . . on the same day?” I shrugged my shoulders.
“Wanton slut,” he said, shaking his head. Then he turned to Adam. “And you, the football star, unwilling—or unable—to keep your girlfriend from banging every guy in school. Pathetic. Well, now I’m going to teach both of you a lesson.”
He beckoned for me to stand. “That skirt is far too short, little missy. Come here so I can measure it.” I approached him, and he told me to kneel. I started to sink to the floor in front of him, when he stopped me. “Not there,” he sighed. “Up here.” He gestured behind him to the bed.
“On your knees, please.” I had been through this drill many times before when I attended a private high school with a strict dress code, so I sank to my knees and waited for him to measure how far the hem of my skirt was from the surface I was kneeling on. Since my current garment barely made it past my ass, I knew I was about to be failed.
The “principal’s” hand slid up my leg, pausing when it touched my hem. “Just as I suspected,” he announced, “Way too short. That’s a demerit.” He sat down on the bed next to me. “Report for your punishment.”
I stole a look at Adam to see if I should be worried. He had promised none of the guys would get rough with me, but I didn’t like where this seemed to be going. He showed no alarm, however. Instead, he was furtively touching himself through his pants, and clearly being aroused by what was unfolding before him.
I climbed down from the bed and stood in front of the man. In one quick motion, he grabbed me, pulling me over his knee and pushing my skirt up. “You’ve been naughty. Time to face the consequences.”
He began to spank my backside. It didn’t hurt, but I felt ridiculous. I had never understood the attraction, and I still didn’t, apparently. My partner clearly expected me to enjoy it, however, or maybe he was the one getting off on it. “You like that, don’t you?” he said. “You like me slapping your naked ass.”
I was glad I was facing away from Adam so he couldn’t see me roll my eyes. This fantasy was doing nothing for me, but I didn’t want to ruin his experience.
When he had finished administering his spanking, my partner pushed me off of his knees and back onto the bed, saying, “I need to examine you to see whether the rumors are true.” He lifted my skirt above my waist and shoved my legs apart, inserting himself between them. “Oh, yeah,” he said, “she’s a regular cum-bucket.” He ran a hand over my pussy and collected some of the semen left behind by my first lover. “You see that, Adam? That’s what happens when you can’t keep your girlfriend in line. She ends up servicing everybody but you.”
He addressed me again. “You’re overflowing with spunk, you little tramp. So you won’t mind when I add some more.” He undid his belt and unzipped his pants, revealing a surprisingly large member, angry and swollen, again substantially bigger than Adam’s. I was beginning to sense a theme. Adam didn’t want to see just any other men fuck me. He wanted to see better-endowed men fuck me.
With his pants around his ankles, my new partner drove his giant cock into me, moving me backward on the bed. As he hammered away, he taunted Adam, “See, son, this is how you deal with a cheating whore. If you can’t keep her in line, I’ll just do it for you.”
Despite the lack of foreplay, I had to acknowledge that he was getting the job done. I wouldn’t have thought it possible when he first showed up at the door, but I was well on my way to my third orgasm of the afternoon by virtue of my partner’s sizable and well-aimed dick.
As he was pumping me, he kept up a string of invective against Adam. “How does it feel, Adam? How does it feel to see your girlfriend really getting it?”
The speed of his thrusting increased. “‘Cause it feels pretty incredible to me, fucking her tight little pussy. I’m going to fill her up like so many others have.”
He was really drilling me now. “I’m going to fill her up . . . right . . . now!”
He made one, final thrust, and I could feel his jet of hot semen spurt into me. Almost against my will, I wrapped my legs tightly around his back and pulled him as deep as I could as I climaxed around his shaft.
As soon as I released him, he pulled out and wiped his prick across my thigh. Then he stood up, pulled up his pants, and re-zipped. As I lay there with my skirt still bunched above my waist, he turned to my husband. “Your girl’s a hell of a lay, Adam,” he said, “but you wouldn’t know that, now would you? You’ll never be enough man for that pussy.”
With that, he turned and left the bedroom, leaving me alone with Adam.
“Oh, babe,” he said, “that was incredible. I could nut right now, I’m so turned on.” He reached under the bed and pulled out yet another box. He handed it to me saying, “One more, baby, one more.”
I really wasn’t sure I had anything left, but hearing Adam say I would have to do this only one more time made me resolve to get through it for his sake. He was clearly so happy to have his most private fantasies play out before his eyes that I couldn’t refuse him just one more.
To be continued . . .
Copyright GWinterbourne 2018.