My Wife And Steve

MY WIFE AND STEVE by Throne "Get in here!" my wife hollered from the front door. I was in the driveway of our suburban home, washing her car. She made no effort to keep her voice down so the neighbors wouldn't hear. I dropped the big pink sponge she made me use back into the matching bucket and hurried toward her, my bright green flip-flops slapping wetly on the drive, and then the sidewalk, and up the front walk. She didn't allow me to set foot the lawn except when I was mowing it. I hated all her rules but Karen is the boss of our home and I know better than to question or disobey her. That's why I was also wearing very brief shorts and a tank top not long enough to cover my tummy, both of those items of clothing pale yellow. As I approached her I brushed my blond hair back from my forehead. She makes me wear it slightly long, which adds to the impression that I am immature and not at all masculine. It doesn't help that I'm short and slender, with only the slightest downy hint of body hair. Karen sighed loudly. "I have to do all the thinking around here. Do you realize you haven't even STARTED cleaning the bathroom?" "I... But..." Didn't she understand that I couldn't start that job until I had finished her car? Of course she didn't. She never understood, and that was on purpose because she had no respect for me and was amused by treating me so badly. "I'm sorry," I told her with my head hung. "I'm just stupid." "Damned right you are. Now get in here and at least clean the tub so I can shower. I have a date tonight, you know." Of course I knew. She never tired of reminding me when her lover Steve was taking her out. I stole a glance at her. She was so sexy, with her overfilled curves, long auburn hair, sweet face, shapely legs and small feet. As I slinked past her she looked down on me. Karen is several inches taller than I am, which only adds to the feeling of inequality between us. "You're giving me ATTITUDE," she snapped. "I think you need some time to think about that. Come on," she said as she turned and led the way to the livingroom. I followed wordlessly, aware that this would put me even further behind schedule. Her broad attractive bottom swayed before me. She sat on the couch and pointed to her feet. I knelt humbly to remove one of her shoes. "Go on," she told me. "Nose-to-toes. You know where to put it." "Please, dear. Not again. Don't make me do that. I'll go right in and clean the tub, and then finish washing your car." "NO! Get down there now." I repressed a sigh. She was angry enough already. Why did she have to put me through this? I tried so hard to please her. But with no choice I bowed my head to the floor and pressed my face against her bared foot, which was warm and damp and smelly. With an effort I wedged my nose between her first two toes. In that demeaning position, breathing in the stink from between her digits, I wasn't about to make any protest. "What's the matter?" she wanted to know. "Does my foot smell?" I whispered that it did. "Well, if you had cleaned the shower like you were supposed to, I'd be in there now and you'd be outside, breathing fresh air while you finished my car. But because you were lazy this is what happens. I'm going to keep you down there long enough for you to think about how much trouble you've made. In fact, pull down your pants. Maybe with your bare bottom on display you'll get the message sooner." I cringed but reached under to unfasten my shorts and tug them down onto my thighs. Underneath were my jockey shorts. She made me wear a juvenile brand, too small for me and patterned with colorful cartoon animals. I got those out of the way as well, baring my pale narrow backside. Try to imagine what that felt like, being on the floor, my nose fitted between her unwashed toes, rear end nude and sticking up, totally under the control of my desirable wife who allowed me no sexual liberties with her super-hot body. Karen left me there while she called Steve on her cellphone. She complained to him that I was being lazy and difficult. I could hear his gruff voice as he answered but couldn't make out his words. Then he said something else and she giggled. "You're such a Man," she told him. "Not like SOME little boys I know." She jerked her foot against my face. "I love it when you talk dirty to me, Steve. It gets me all excited for tonight." They went on for awhile before she permitted me to leave and begin cleaning the shower. I had to use another plastic bucket, this one with a little scrub brush with a smiley face on it. It wasn't bad enough I had to do all my chores but she made sure they were humiliating, too. I stripped in the bathroom, as her rules required, and filled the bucket with hot soapy water. The limited size of the brush slowed me down, so I had to work twice as fast to come out even. I was still kneeling in the tub, naked, all the way down to cleaning around the drain, when she came in wearing just a few wisps of sexy lingerie. I couldn't help but get an erection, putting my four-inch dick on display. She clucked disapprovingly and shook her head. I meekly stood, knowing what a silly picture I made, and rinsed all around me. When I stepped out she peered critically at my crotch. "You know," she said, "with as little pubic hair as you have -- or pubic FUZZ -- I don't understand why you can't keep it trimmed short like you're supposed to." I thought it was as short as required but knew better than to contradict her. Instead I dropped my eyes and apologized, saying I hadn't been trying hard enough. My accusing hard-on stayed up. She eyed that sternly as well. "And didn't I tell you I didn't want you getting your tiny pecker all worked up? It tires you out." How could it not be 'all worked up'? She hadn't permitted me an ejaculation for three and a half weeks. Again my attitude announced I was in the wrong. "I'm so sorry. I'm... having trouble concentrating on my work." I hoped she accepted that. She did, but used it as an excuse to say, "If you can't focus, I'll just have to think up some way to HELP you keep your mind where it belongs. WON'T I, boy?" "Yes, Karen. Thank you, Karen." She huffed, made me turn the shower on myself, cold, until my peter wilted, and then had me adjust the water to a comfortable temperature so she could shower. My wife wanted to be perfect for the man who was screwing her. Dejectedly, and still dripping, I got back into my clothes and went out to finish washing her car. I even had to get down and clean dirt off her tires... with a toothbrush. By the time I was done I was worn out, but had to go back and continue the bathroom where I had left off. Not until it was spotless was I able to stop. By then it was almost time for Steve to arrive. Karen had known him before we met. I didn't know it when we got engaged, but she had only dated me to spite him. He didn't care and, with her eyes on the home I owned, she married me. Then, three months into our marriage, after she had cut me off from the infrequent sex I had been getting, Steve called her at work. She invited him over, telling me she had issues to resolve. Her idea of doing that was to meet him with open arms --- and legs. She greeted him with a soulful kiss, forgave him for whatever he had done that she didn't like, and told me to get him a drink. When I protested she slapped my face. Steve laughed at that, crossed the room in a few long strides, and punched me in the stomach. I dropped to my knees and he put his big booted foot on my chest and knocked me onto my back. Then he planted his dirty footwear on my clean shirt, told me what he wanted to drink, and warned me that if I gave Karen any problems -- ever -- he would put me in the hospital. I struggled to my feet and hurried off to fetch his drink. They had been reunited for two months. Now he was coming for another of their dates, which were usually three a week, along with some visits and sleepovers. I hated it but was too small, weak and cowardly to stand up to him. Instead, when he honked his horn, I rushed out front. He grinned nastily at me and brushed me aside as he passed. I tried to keep up with him as he went to the front door and let himself in. Naturally, he had a key too, in case he arrived anytime when we were out. I followed him in. My wife was wearing a snug top with no bra, and a shorter-than-short skirt with nothing under it but a thong. She flipped up the front of the skirt to show him her barely covered, neatly shaved mound. Steve put his brawny arms around her and planted a lingering kiss on her eager mouth. As their tongues slid against each other he put one broad hand on her ass and gave her a squeeze. Karen ground her hips against him. When they separated he wrapped his thick calloused fingers around the back of my neck and marched me into the bedroom. Pulling a length of rope from his jacket pocket, he lashed my neck to one of the upright posts on the lower corner of our bed. As he snugged the knot tight I was trapped with the top of the post digging into the soft spot under my chin. He punched me below my lowest rib hard enough to make me groan. "Listen, weakling," he told me in a no-nonsense voice. "We're going out for steaks and drinks and we'll be back in a few hours. I doubt if you have the smarts to untie that knot, but if you do I'll know it and I'll bang you around until you can't walk. Understand?" I managed to choke out an affirmative. "Good boy," he said, slapping the back of my head. "And when we get home I'm going to leave you right where you are so you can watch your precious wife get screwed by somebody who knows how to do it. Think about that while you're waiting for us." They had always made me wait outside the bedroom door, stuffed me in the closet, or even had me fit myself into the narrow space under the bed, face up, while they enjoyed long, energetic sex sessions. Were they actually going to make me watch, and see my wife taken by that brute? It was unthinkable but, as badly as both of them treated me, as much sadistic delight as they took from my misery, and as big a slut as my wife had become around Steve, I didn't doubt it. As I stood there in my uncomfortable bondage I could think of nothing else. Over two hours passed before I heard the front door open and the laughing couple enter. My stomach lurched. I heard them go to the kitchen and make drinks. They reached the bedroom, Steve with his shirt undone, Karen with her thong in her hand. Even my fear of being hit couldn't keep me from begging, "Please. Please, don't make me watch. I couldn't take it." Karen spit on my lips and I shut up. She helped Steve out of his boots and pants and made a show of lowering his boxers. It was the first time I got to see his cock. She had enthused about how long and thick it was but I was still shocked to see about seven beefy inches. As she knelt in front of him and used her heavily lipsticked mouth on it, her overly made-up eyes closed in ecstasy, it swelled to an astounding nine inches and grew proportionately thicker. She pulled her lips off it with a wet pop, then turned her head to fix her eyes on mine. Karen told me, "This is what I need, little man. Not that little pinky finger you've got between your legs." She licked the underside of his hardness up and down, kissed his heavy balls, and then tongue-flicked a drop of pre-cum off the tip. "Yum. Yummy yum yum." Steve gave her a hand up, swung her around, and laid her down on the bed. She tugged her top up and off, baring her full breasts. The tiny skirt followed, but she left on the trampy heels. I fought back tears as she urged him to ravish her. "Come on lover, fill me up. I need all that meat. You know you've got me hooked on it. I'll never want my baby-man husband again. His dinky dick will never feel the inside of my pussy. Only his busy tongue is allowed in there." She laughed cruelly. "I think he's learning to like this arrangement. It's what I wimp like him deserves. It's what he's made for. I'll bet all this feels right to him." Her lover nibbled on the side of her neck, none too gently, then bit it. She groaned passionately, then briefly in pain, and when he rolled away I could see he had left a bite mark, a love bite. My tears started to flow. Karen laughed at my suffering and spread her legs lewdly. The huge powerful man mounted her and, with my unwanted view, I could see him enter her wetness. She grunted like an animal and coaxed him to give her more. When he was buried to his balls, so much bigger than mine, she pleaded for him to pump her until she cried. Lacking all finesse, he went at it like a steam engine, pistoning her pussy so fiercely that she eventually did scream as she was seized by a quaking orgasm. He didn't slow down but rode her through a second, equally explosive climax. Before she had quite finished that one he growled and emptied himself into her. I couldn't help myself. I began blubbering incoherently. He continued ramming her until he was fully satisfied, then rolled off, his slimed cock ending up draped over one hairy muscular thigh. I gagged. Her vagina was overfilled with his cum. She made a joke about it being a cream-filled donut. "Yeah," he said. "That'd be a real treat for the little man. Want a nice gooey donut, jerk? How about I untie you so you can eat it?" What? That was more devastating than being made to watch. But Steve did get up and undo the knot. Again he seized me by the back of my neck but this time he aimed my face directly at Karen's oozing slit. My stomach flip-flopped as he put me in position, my nose inches from the mess I was expected to lick up. This couldn't be happening. It was the worst, most degrading act I could imagine. Any slim chance I'd had of gaining even an iota of respect from my wife would vanish if I did it. He looked at her. "You up for this, Baby? I think it's just what the shrimp needs. After this, he'll never forget what he is, even for a second. I doubt he'll even be able to look you in the eyes. HA! And you know, after getting shafted so hard and long, it'll make your pussy feel good, like a tongue massage. How about it?" "You're a genius, Steve. You know I want to put the loser through every kind of hell we can think of. Do it, Steve. Push his stupid face into my slice. Make him gobble up all that protein." "You heard the hot lady, dickless." He pressed my lips and nose into the white slime. "Eat until it's alllll gone, short stuff." Sickened beyond belief, I nevertheless started lapping, swallowing, and going deeper for more. Some had run down between her bottom cheeks and I had to retrieve that as well. Karen called me every demeaning name she could think of, said she knew I was enjoying it, and declared that I was a cocksucker once removed. It seemed to take a half hour, but I eventually got every drop off her and into me. She even experience an extra, milder climax. After that she made me stuff my nose into her slit and keep it there. "More fun that nose-to-toes," she said. "It's nose-to-nookie." And she laughed. They both laughed. Steve went and got them both drinks. He said I made them too weak, like a girl. While I remained in that humiliating pose, he gave her another lingering kiss. At last they let me withdraw and stand by the bed. Karen told him, "I think we should make little dick do that every time we screw. It really gets me hot. If I'm thinking about it ahead of time, I really be primed for your horsecock. He could even go down before we do it and get me nice and wet, so you can slide right in." "Sure, Babe. Whatever turns you on. And I get off on seeing the twerp get what he deserves. Wouldn't want him to get any ideas about deserving anything from you, just 'cause you're married." "Yeah, I love that. The pathetic pussy licker can't even get into his own wife. And never will." I stole a glance at her. All the trashy cosmetics were smeared. Her hair was disarrayed. She made no effort to cover herself. And she still had on those whorish shoes. My wife had turned herself into a total slut so she could have a steady supply of her brutish, arrogant lover's huge cock. And I was nothing but an object of ridicule and target for their abuse. And that would never change. 9250 1.35/512345