A Long Night’s Journey into Cuckoldry

She was by every measure an innocent beauty AND a simpering whore; her body both the holy temple of her soul and an open sewer of repressed sexual depravity. This was all apparent to the discerning eye; it aroused anxiety and confusion in the chaste but the compulsion to defile, flog and torture in more pitiless, more bestial men. It was to the former Kate was wed but to the later her harlot’s soul belonged. Her nights were haunted by delicious panty-soaking dreams in which crude filthy men desecrated her orifices and hurt her, inflicting the most exquisitely erotic tortures, while her beloved husband was forced to watch, erect and aroused, but sobbing in humiliation and horror at her obvious enjoyment.

Michael, Kate’s adoring husband was the brake that Kate had, in a spasm of fear, applied to her unsettling dreams and desires. Since her earliest memories of sexual longing, she had been drawn to the violent, the vile and to bestial menacing virility. The strength of her yearnings and the danger they portended were both a siren’s song and an air raid warning. She had fled into Michael’s insipid embrace to rescue her virtue and appease her survival instinct. Though virtue and prudence received a temporary reprieve, she hardly found solace there and certainly, never sexual satisfaction. Michael truly made love to her; all was adoration and a poetic appreciation of her physical beauty; lust was absent – their marital bed was a sexual desert strewn with the bleached bones of Kate’s carnal appetites. But she felt safe there; Michael’s demeanor enfeebled her desires and so the ravenous beast of her lascivious libido lay torpid in its lair, deep within the most primitive recesses of her psyche.

Still, there were times when serendipity placed her in the orbit of the type of predacious creature she craved, inciting the shameless, reckless slut within her to take possession of her orifices: her mouth parting ever so slightly, while her tongue, warm and moist, flicked and wetted her sensuous lips, her labia engorging and her cunt oozing, and the muscular swells of her magnificent meaty ass twitching and lewdly swaying. But always it seemed, Michael was nearby and though oblivious to the tempest that raged in his beloved wife, was able to rescue and lead her away from the suck of the vortex that had been drawing her to the danger and depravity she so eagerly coveted.

Safe though she was, Kate always knew there would come a day, when neither Michael, nor reason, nor morality, nor even survival instinct would save her from the violent debauchery that was her destiny. As it happened, their appointment with that destiny would come unexpectedly during a cross-country drive to visit some old classmates in San Diego………….

Though well after nightfall, it was still scorching hot in the dusty West Texas town when Michael and Kate pulled into the parking lot of the dilapidated old motel. After checking in, they wandered over to the nearby, equally seedy bar/pool hall for tacos; the only meal available in that Godforsaken hole. Inside there were 3 round wooden tables, the pool table and the bar. Four crude and dirty looking men, cue sticks in hand, crowded around the pool table. Kate’s heart jumped at the sight and musky smell of the sweaty unwashed ruffians. For a brief exciting instant, Kate imagined the pool cues to be immense throbbing phalluses.

Michael sat down at the furthest table from the men.

“I’ll go ask the bartender for a couple of orders of tacos, Michael – I’ll be right back”

Before taking another step, Kate “accidentally” knocked over one of the chairs. The men’s heads jerked around at the sound and there was Kate, walking slowly toward the bar, her globular ass cheeks swaying and straining the material of her tight cutoff jean shorts. Her t-shirt clung to her sweaty breasts revealing the 2 thinly shrouded, quarter-sized Hershey’s kisses that were her erect nipples. Kate could feel her cunt lips warming. She leaned over the bar to talk with the old Hispanic bartender, her T-shirt pulling tighter against her breasts. In this position, her ass stuck out more prominently and alluringly in the direction of the pool table. Her divine, meaty asscheeks pulsated, alternately squeezing together and relaxing in rhythm with the firm gluteal muscles that she was very consciously exercising.

The most imposing, most threatening of the men motioned the others to stay put and casually sidled up next to her at the bar. He looked directly down into Kate’s liquid eyes.

“Fuck the tacos and the beer, Pedro, I want me some of this” he said grasping one of her jiggling cheeks in his big hand and digging two of his fingers into the sweaty valley between them until they found her asshole which he massaged roughly, poking his fingers into the worn material of her jeans.

“I’m sorry sir you can’t have that it belongs to my husband over there”, she gestured toward Michael. “He wouldn’t like what you are doing at all”

Michael started to rise from the table to say something but stopped short when the other 3 men motioned him to sit back down.

The bartender immediately came to her defense. “Please Mr. Jack – I don’t want no trouble. Leave the nice seniorita alone”

Jack knew Pedro kept a sawed-off shotgun under the bar and had in the past made more than one unruly customer pay with his life.

Raising both his hands in the air in mock surrender, Jack reassured Pedro “OK, OK senior – I was only complimenting the lady. Wasn’t I sweetheart? Tell Pedro you appreciated it”

Blushing, Kate stammered, “Well yes… I suppose so. I’m just not used to West Texas men”

“See Pedro – we’re good”

“Come on over here little darlin’ and meet the boys. Pedro, you can bring those tacos over to my compadres”

“Just a minute please. I need to tell my husband something”

“Sure sugar, but don’t be too long. It ain’t polite to keep us waitin’ and these boys got feelins that get hurt real easy.”

“No sir – of course – I’d never want to offend your friends”

Kate put her hand on Michaels’ shoulder and whispered, “Michael I’m afraid not to do what he says. We’re all alone here. There’s no one, no police or anyone else to protect us. Please Michael, it’s just a little thing – I don’t want to give them the idea that we think we are too good for them.