Becoming A Cuckquean

By Katt Ford

Carla has a kink. Life with her husband Matt is good, but there's more she wants to explore. She wants to watch him with another woman. She wants to see him seduce and bed multiple other women right in front of her. And although Matt is reluctant at first, he soon sees the benefits for him.

But when Matt meets Carla's sexy new boss Katy, events take an unexpected turn. Katy is just as dominant as Matt is, and together, they will push their cuckquean to new heights of humiliation and desire.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Katt Ford
• Release date: Feb 21, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370291519

Katt Ford

Katt Ford graduated from college and went straight to a boring job as a receptionist. While killing time behind her desk, she began reading erotic fiction on line. Before long, she decided to try her hand at writing it.Katt is an equal opportunity pervert. She likes stories about strong men and strong women, and the people who love them. Is it better to give or to receive? She still can't decide.Katt lives in Western Canada with her extremely open-minded husband and the best cat in the world.

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Copyright Katt Ford 2016

Smashwords Edition

All characters in this story are over the age of eighteen

www.kattfordwrites.wixsite.com

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Becoming A Cuckquean

While His Wife Watches

Click. Tap. There’s no adequate word for the sound a woman’s heels make on a hard surface. Nothing quite describes that strange mix of authority and vulnerability, that perverse sexiness, the attention that that particular sound draws. Like a siren. Like an alarm. I’m like one of Pavlov’s drooling dogs, my body responding in a way I couldn’t control even if I wanted to at nothing more than the sound of a woman’s shoes.

Other than the shoes, Katy is completely naked. Her body is incredible, her round ass swaying from side to side with every step, her legs long and smooth as she struts towards me. Her breasts though large are infuriatingly perky, bouncing easily as she walks. I’d like to say I remember looking like that. But I never looked like that. Sure, I had nicer tits when I was younger. My ass might have been a little firmer. But I never looked like Katy does. My skin prickles with shame at the sight of her. She’s everything I could never be, no matter how hard I try. And it all seems so effortless for her.

I need to get dressed, Katy said curtly. Where are my clothes?

I’ll get them for you, I said. Katy watched from under her sparkling blue eyelids, her naturally blue eyes shining dramatically, beautifully framed by her thick black lashes. White teeth shone between her parted red lips. I could feel her eyes on me as I went about my task, her gaze flickering dismissively over my body as my skin prickled. I tried to ignore it.

Reaching up, I unhooked a hanger from the top of the kitchen door. In my own high heels, I was just tall enough to reach it. Her deep purple shirt fluttered like a flag as I lowered it. Unable to resist the sheen of the silky material, I ran my fingers over it once more. She always had such exquisite clothes. Her gray skirt still lay on the ironing board; I had just finished getting the creases out of it as she came over. Hanging her shirt from the edge of the ironing board, I picked up her neatly folded bra. Everything was washed and ready for her. Of course I had snuck a peak at the label of her expensive bra. DD. I thought as much. Even the bra was gorgeous, sky blue laced with black and heavily underwired to support her impressive breasts. Almost unconsciously, my fingers traced the delicate lace that ran along the edge of the cups.

Don’t play with it, Katy snapped, jolting me out of my admiring reverie. Come here and help me dress. I have to get back to work.

Yes, Ma’am. Of course. My cheeks burned red as I took her bra in my hands and hurried over to the younger woman. With an exasperated sigh, she thrust her arms through the straps of the bra as I held them out to her. My heels clattered on the kitchen floor as I stepped behind her to fasten her bra, feeling the weight of her flawless breasts as I struggled to fasten the hooks at her back. Risking a peek over her slender shoulder, I could see her boobs pushed high on her chest, the round globes swelling out over the top of the bra in a way that was far from work appropriate, in my opinion. But my opinion, I knew, was worth less than nothing.

Katy’s panties matched her bra, of course, thin blue wispy little things that looked as though they might evaporate at any moment. With great care, I took them in my hands and kneeled on my own floor in front of her, holding her underwear out for her to step into.

Did you hand wash those for me? Katy’s voice seemed to come from high above me as I kneeled at her designer heels.

Of course, Ma’am, I said as my face turned a deeper shade of red. It was true. Those were my orders, and I had learned the hard way that orders were to be obeyed. Besides, I didn’t dare risk any damage to Katy’s doubtlessly pricey underwear. Her glossy high heel rose gracefully in front of me as she stepped into the panties, first one foot, then the other. I slid the fabric up her legs, feeling the softness of her immaculate skin under my fingers, as though my coarse hands might somehow injure her. Her pussy was bare and pungent and right in front of my face as I struggled with the panties, and my curiosity overcame me. Her lips were red and full and swollen, the scent of sex heavy in my nostrils this close to her moist pussy. With a feeling akin to horror, I could see the creamy white remnants of cum inside her gaping hole, slipping slowly down the slick walls of her used vagina. My stomach churned. She hadn’t used protection.

What are you staring at?

Nothing, Ma’am, I said hurriedly, sliding her panties into place. Almost immediately, I could see the freshly laundered fabric growing damp as the mingled juices, hers and his, spilled out of her.

Hurry up, Katy barked. Rising stiffly to my feet, I took up her shirt and walked back behind her again, slipping it on over her outstretched arms before returning to button it in the front. As I slipped each tiny button into the corresponding hole, her pale eyes flickered over my face, studying my expression. A maddeningly smug little smile played on her freshly made-up lips as she watched me. I felt her scrutiny, as though she were trying to read on my face some explanation of why I allowed her to treat me like this. I kept my eyes down humbly, focusing on the task at hand. A hint of her deep cleavage showed at the top of her shirt as I fastened the last button and reached for her freshly ironed skirt. Her glacial eyes watched silently as I sank once again to my knees in front of her, bunching her skirt in my hands for her to step into. Her heels rapped sharply on the floor, first one, then the other, and I pulled her skirt up her long legs, struggling to get the slightly stretchy material over her broad hips. Finally, I zipped Katy’s skirt shut, the fabric clinging to her legs like a second skin. As always, she looked incredible, and I felt once again that familiar rush of shame and arousal, and shame at my arousal, as I looked at Katy’s gorgeous body. It’s complicated. I can appreciate feminine beauty, but I’m not attracted to it. Or at least, I wasn’t. These days, I don’t know what I am anymore. Maybe it’s for the best that I don’t make those kind of decisions these days.

Still smirking, Katy turned, her high heels rapping out a brisk rhythm on the floor as she swayed her way over to the front door. Without a word of thanks, without so much as a glance backwards, she stepped outside, closing the door behind her. Within minutes, I head the rumble of her Lexus as she backed out of my driveway, the sunlight glancing off the car’s sleek lines as she headed back to work.

Is she gone? Matt’s deep voice rang out from the bedroom at the back of the house.

Yes, sir, I replied, my eyes still on the now-empty street outside the front window of the house. She’s gone.

Then get in here, he ordered. There was that sound again, my own heels rapping on the floor as I followed Katy’s journey in reverse, heading back towards the bedroom she had just vacated.

Matt lay back in bed, his head resting on his intertwined fingers, his thick biceps bulging. A corner of the white sheet lay across his midsection, covering part of his six-pack abs. He was in incredible shape for a man in his forties, his body sculpted by regular gym visits. His dark brown hair was still luxuriously thick, flecked here and there with only the slightest glimmer of gray that lent an air of refinement to his otherwise boyish good looks. His smile caused adorable dimples to form on his rugged cheeks as he watched me appear in the bedroom at his command. No woman could resist him, I knew. Least of all me.

With a flourish, he plucked aside the sheet. His thick, veiny cock lay across his thigh like a lion at rest, slumbering for now but still menacingly powerful. Arousal rumbled inside me at the provocative sight. He had a body to die for, no doubt about that. And that cock. I had heard all too well the screams and cries it had forced from Katy’s red lips all afternoon.

You know what to do, Matt grinned. He was right. I did. As I shuffled towards the bed and climbed onto the mattress, I knew exactly what to do. As I crawled towards him on my hands and knees, I knew exactly what to do. His cock twitched as I lowered my face towards it, his shaft sticky and glistening in the afternoon light. I winced as I felt his fingers in my hair, holding my head in place.

You smell that? Matt growled. You smell another woman’s cum on your husband’s dick?

Yes sir, I whimpered, sniffing rapidly as my senses flooded with the mixed smell of his cock and her pussy. His cock moved beneath me, swinging ponderously upwards as it lurched back into life, the meaty head brushing my cheek and leaving a thin trail of bodily fluids behind.

Get to it, then, said Matt briskly, releasing my hair and laying back again. Clean up time. As I took my husband’s cock into my mouth, I tasted once again the familiar taste of another woman’s pussy. I knew my place.

*

You were flirting with her!

I was not.

Yes you were! That’s totally the way you used to be with me. All charming and funny.

You’re saying I’m not charming and funny now?

Depends. Put it this way, I’ll say you’re just as charming and funny now as the day we met, if you’ll agree I look the same weight.

Agreed, Matt smiled. That was us. Look at us; we’re adorable. Matt looked so good in that leather jacket; whatever happened to that? I still have that dress, but it doesn’t fit any more. The city blurred by us as long streaks of rainwater drew diagonal lines across the windows of the taxi. It was smart not to drive. The work Christmas party usually turns into a boozy affair, and we were definitely feeling the effects.

Do you think she’s pretty? I asked quietly, my head leaning on Matt’s shoulder in the back of the cab.

Who? Rachel? Sure, I guess. I smiled at my husband’s noncommittal answer. It was exactly the right answer, under the circumstances. But I knew what it meant.

Like you didn’t notice, I teased. If you were single, you’d be all over that, wouldn’t you? Don’t lie to me.

Come on, Carla, said Matt. I felt him shift uncomfortably in his seat. That’s not - I don’t want to think about that.

No? The Christmas punch must have been stronger than I thought, because all sorts of naughty thoughts were trampling through my muddled brain, and for once I didn’t feel