Free cuckold community
Sign up now!
Frank is getting fat. He was the pinnacle of physical fitness when we met. On our honeymoon he could still lift me and toss me around like a rag doll. Not anymore. No, now his gut hangs over his size 40 jeans and his second chin jiggles with every thrust. I should make Jell-o when he finishes.
“Oh yeah, you like that?” He grunted, his thrusts wild and rhythm-less. He had never been good at pacing himself and as he got older his stamina started to slip. His eyes began to squint and his neck tensed. “Ughh, here it comes baby,” he groaned, his flabby stomach pressing down, suffocating me.
“Oh yeah, cum for me,” and get the fuck off. He quickened his pace and I felt him erupt inside of me. We don’t use birth control because Frank is essentially sterile. After a year of trying to conceive we spent thousands on clinical remedies and trials only to finally give birth to our daughter four years after we began our attempts; I figured, if by some fluke we could have another without medical help we shouldn’t waste the chance.
Frank rolled off of me, seemingly satisfied. His cock has shrunk since the first time we fucked, or at least I remember him being bigger. It was so passionate and romantic. We went at it like rabbits until the sun came up that first night, sucking and fucking with reckless abandon. I don’t think I’ve had multiple orgasms like that in years. The only one cumming now is Frank. Fat fucking Frank and his small fucking cock.
I’ll be the first to admit that he isn’t the only one who has put on a few pounds. After our first child we didn’t have enough time to take care of ourselves like we used to. In college I was a size 4 and now I am a size 14. Of course most of the weight went to my hips and ass but I still can rock a pair of yoga pants and get some looks at the gym. Frank stumbled as he put on his pants.
“I’m going to be late tonight, we have a meeting after work and it will probably go long. Are you good?” he gestured towards my unsatisfied pussy. “Oh yeah, it was great,” I feigned. He hadn’t been able to make me orgasm since the mid 2000s.
“Ok, good. Love you,” he kissed my cheek and was out the door, leaving me filled with his semen and regret. The only positive about Franks useless cum was that I didn’t need any lube. I rolled over to the night stand and grabbed my Rabbit. The toy roared to life as I selected my favorite setting: a rapid pulse and a squirming shaft. I buried the vibrator in my cum-filled twat and felt sexual pleasure for the first time all day. Of course I can’t cum; every time I come close all I can picture is Frank on top of me trying to fill me with his worthless seed. Is this what my life has come to; the wife of a fat husband that doesn’t care about my needs, my desires? How would he like it if I was the only one cumming, leaving him with a mess to clean up as I enjoyed my post orgasm bliss? How would he feel about lying on his back and just taking a small dick hoping that I would finish soon so he could get himself off? He is such a pathetic excuse for a man and I should be getting fucked like a woman deserved to be.
The rabbit started giving me some resistance and my pussy gripped it onto it like a drowning man to a life raft. Was Franks uselessness turning me on? Who cares, I pushed my pleasure stick in as deep as it could go, its ears buzzed over my clit sending shivers down my thick, creamy thighs. If only Frank were here to watch me have an orgasm maybe he could learn a thing or two. The pulses coming from inside my honey pot increased in speed. Even if he did watch he probably wouldn’t remember how to get me off. His tiny cock couldn’t pleasure me like this pulsing piece of plastic squirming in my soaking snatch. His little prick is useless to me.
“Oh God,” I let slip as my arms and legs began to tingle. I worked the toy in and out as fast as I could. I could feel my juices and Franks useless cum drip down past my asshole. I wish he had to clean up this mess; cum and pussy juice dripped onto the cotton sheets below me. He doesn’t know how pitiful he is.
“Fuck,” I started getting louder as I could feel the sweet release of an orgasm nearing. “Mommy,” a knock at the door almost made me jump off the bed, “are you ok?” “Just a minute, sweetheart,” I yelled. My daughter was already up and getting ready for school. “I need breakfast,” she whined, “I have to go to school!” “I know, honey, just give-“ “Mommy now!” “Coming, sweet heart,” another failed orgasm. I pulled the wiggling toy from my hungry twat. This isn’t the first time I haven’t got mine, Frank has made sure of that, but this time it is especially frustrating.
After cleaning up and dropping Emily off at school I decided to do hit the gym. I had been trying to get back to my college weight for about six months and was doing well. I know that getting back to a size four is unrealistic but it made for a good motivator and kept me going back.
The stink of sweat and sterile cleaning wipes permeated the cardio room. I looked for an open elliptical but all I saw were the toned legs and butts of twenty-something year-olds holding up every machine. Sometimes I found myself cursing them for being young and childless but I was finally realizing the results from my workout routine and couldn’t hold their youth against them. I mean, most of them will get fat one day.
“Hey, Lisa, how are things?” A familiar baritone came from behind me. The voice belonged to a six foot three soccer player named Brad; my other motivation for coming back. I met Brad the first day I began working out at the gym. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of me when I was on the treadmill. Sure, he was staring at my ass but it felt good to know someone was interested. He came up to me to ask if I was new and offered me a free personal training session, but I could tell the entire time his eyes kept floating towards my rear. After I declined I couldn’t help but notice him every time I worked out, it was hard to miss someone chiseled out of stone. Brads shorts don’t leave a whole lot to the imagination and I can safely estimate he is packing around seven fat inches. I am not ashamed to say I’ve thought about him many times to get me in the mood for Franks little prick.
“Oh, you know, they are going,” I replied sheepishly as I picked up a dumbbell and began to curl. Talking to Brad made me a little nervous. How can someone so handsome find someone like me attractive? Shouldn’t he be going after models in Brazil? “You really are taking to this fitness thing like a champ,” he smiled. While watching my form in the mirror I noticed his eyes were fixed on my ass. “Yeah, it really helps me relax. Am I doing this right?” “Your form looks great,” he replied, eyes still fixed downwards.
I let the weight slip out of my hand and drop to the floor. “oops,” I said as a bent over. I looked back, my ass still in his view, “Sometimes I just can’t hold onto things this big.” His eyes hadn’t moved. I couldn’t believe I was doing this in the middle of a packed gym. What if someone saw me? His eyes finally locked with mine. “See anything you like?”
“I’m sorry,” he said as he turned away and quickly began walking out of the weight room. I wanted to shout after him and tell him that I wanted him to look. Nothing came out. My head was racing, I was so turned on. Before I knew what I was doing I found myself following him. I turned the corner and saw the janitor’s closet door slam shut. I knocked.
“Hey, it’s me. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that,” there was no reply, “I don’t want to ruin whatever we had going on here, I liked it.” I heard the lock snap back and the door creaked open. I entered the dimly lit room. It was larger than I thought it would be; the floors dingy off white tiles were barely visible due to the flickering fluorescent light that illuminated the room. Brads muscled back turned towards me, like a child in time out. “I’m sorry for eye fucking you like that,” he said, “but that ass…” “Thanks,” I replied, admittedly taken aback by his statement, “I actually like when you look at me. I mean, a guy like you looking at someone like me that way, well, it is certainly an ego boost.”
He turned towards me and I could see the outline of his massive erect member constrained by his tight shorts. My initial estimates may have been off by an inch or three. “Oh, wow,” I can’t believe I said that. “You are a goddess, Lisa. You deserve to be worshiped.” My cheeks were flush and I could feel a wet spot developing in my yoga pants. “I-I’m married,” I stuttered. “Your husband is a lucky man, to have a woman as beautiful as you,” he replied, as he slowly stoked his thick cock through his shorts. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. “A beautiful woman deserves anything she desires. What do you desire?”
He stepped closer to me, still stroking his huge prick. I was paralyzed with fear and excitement. I had never in my wildest fantasies expected Brad to be the one to come on to me. “I-I just don’t, um, I don’t know what I desire,” was all I could manage. “Tell me what you want,” he inched closer, pulling his shorts down, exposing his cock, all nine glorious inches snapped upright. “Do you want to watch me stroke it for you?” “I would like that,” holy shit did I say that? He wrapped his hands around it and began to slowly stroke it. I could see his bronze foreskin envelope his engorged head as he moved it back and forth. “What do you think?” “I think you should go faster,” I replied, not fully understanding the words coming out of my mouth. He increased his speed. “Do you want to see my ass? It is all you have been able to look at for the last six months.” He nodded his head in approval. I slowly peeled my yoga pants off my sweaty body. My lacy purple boy shorts were the only thing holding back the tide of hot juices that were building up inside of me. I assumed the same position as when this whole event started: ass up, face down. “What do you think?”
He couldn’t take his eyes off of it. He began stroking faster and faster. “You have the most beautiful ass, Lisa.” “Mrs. Wilcox, Brad, my name is Mrs. Wilcox.” “Mrs. Wilcox, your ass is magnificent. Your husband is so lucky.” “My husband is fat fuck with a little dick,” I can’t believe I am enjoying this, “he doesn’t have what it takes to satisfy a woman.” “You deserve to be satisfied, Mrs. Wilcox,” I could tell that he was tensing up. “Are going to shoot your load, Brad?” “Only if you want me to,” he groaned. The flickering light obscured his face with shadows. I didn’t want him to cum. It was too soon. Frank would have lasted this long, fat fucking Frank and his small cock. Were all men this pathetic?
“You are just going to blow your load and leave me here, wet and ready? You are just like my worthless husband,” where is this coming from? I’ve never said anything like this before and I’ve never been wetter. “No, I won’t cum till you tell me Mrs. Wilcox. What do you want me to do?” I pulled my underwear down to my ankles, “worship me.” Before I could finish my sentence Brad buried his face in my ass. I could feel his tongue lapping up my juices from my inner thigh all the way to my clit. Bliss. “Is that how you worship,” I moaned. All I could hear was a muffled ‘yes’. He was certainly enthusiastic. I could feel his tongue penetrate me as he licked up and down, greedily drinking in all my pussy has to offer. “Mmmm, worship my ass,” his tongue probed my lips. “You taste divine, Mrs. Wilcox.” “Don’t stop,” he dove back in, savoring my pussy juices, slurping them up greedily, “make me cum!”
His increased his voracity, licking me with long, up and down strokes. It rose up to my taint then back down to my clit. My legs began to shake. “What are you waiting for?” He raised his head and began running his tongue in circles around my asshole. My entire body shivered as he gently probed the outside of my tight, puckered hole with the tip of his tongue. His huge cock dribbled with precum. “Lick my asshole you dirty boy,” where am I coming up with this, “Finger my tight cunt, make me cum.” He jammed his fingers into my sopping wet slit; two, maybe three, it didn’t matter, my pussy was burning. He continued to tongue fuck my asshole while his fingers stretched me. I grabbed his dark curly hair and forced him in deeper.
“Oh God, fuck me Brad. Fuck me like my fat useless husband never could,” his head pulled back and he withdrew his fingers from my hungry pussy. “I don’t have a condom,” he said, pain in his voice. “Just fuck me, you pussy,” I said sternly. I wanted this too bad to let some trivial thing like condoms get in the way, “just pull out.” Before I could even change my stance I felt his huge rod penetrate my wet pussy. He went in slow and deliberately, his engorged member parting my lips. He was twice the size of my husband’s tiny prick.
“Is that what you want, Mrs. Wilcox,” he grunted as he began to pick up his pace, thrusting deeply, his balls smacking my clit with every push. “Just what I wanted, Brad. You fuck so much better than my husband,” I could feel the ridge along the head of his penis pull out more of my sweet juices, “I wish you could teach him how to fuck.” “Some men,” he paused as he slowed down. My hole started to squeeze his fat shaft; I didn’t want him to stop. “Some men,” he started again, “just don’t know how to please a beautiful woman.” “Frank has no clue,” I moaned. I was getting close. I began to push back in rhythm with his stabs. I could feel his hips hit my ass, making it ripple. “And even if he did, he couldn’t get anything done with what he is packing.” “He needs to be taught,” he groaned, “I was taught how to properly worship a woman like you.” His pace quickened. He began to moan. “Fuck me harder,” I moaned, “fuck my cunt, I want your cum.” He obliged. His big hands grabbed my hips and buried his cock deep in my pussy. I could feel gobs of his hot sticky cum shoot inside me. The feeling drove me over the edge and a warm sensation ran up from my toes. My pussy was drenched and my entire body began to feel weak. I collapsed in orgasmic delight. My head was spinning and it took me a minute to realize that I fell into Brads well toned arms. I could feel his cum dripping out of my satisfied hole and onto my leg.
“Oh God, did you come in me?” “You told me you wanted my cum,” he said, stunned at my tone. “I did, but not in me!” “I’m sorry it felt so good. I couldn’t help myself.” “Brad,” I was beginning to panic, “I am not on birth control. What the fuck am I going to do?” He looked me straight in the eyes and rolled me onto my back. The floor felt cool against my sweat drenched back. “I’ll take care of it,” he said, before disappearing between my legs again. He greedily began to slurp up the combination of cum and pussy juice; his tongue running from my thighs to my asshole to my cum-soaked hole and back.
“I am not complaining, but what the hell are you doing?” “I am cleaning up my mess, Mrs. Wilcox. Do you like it?” “Yes, I do, but you don’t have to-,” he went back to business, every so often flicking my engorged clit with his tongue. “Actually, don’t stop,” he picked up his pace again, lapping up our juices like he was dehydrated. His tongue focused on my clit again and I could feel his fingers start to message the entrance of my wet hole. He buried them in me again, this time maybe four, stretching my pussy. I could feel more of his hot load dribble down my plump ass as his fingers rammed me harder.
“I’m going to cum-,” my words were stifled as my back arched, I could feel his fingers tapping against my g-spot. He mumbled something as another wave of pleasure washed over me. The world around me spun and as my legs collapsed. Brad’s thick arms brought me down gently and laid my on my back. After a moment the tremors subsided and I looked at his face, his chiseled jaw dripping with his cum. “I haven’t had an orgasm like that in years.” “I’m glad I could help,” he ran his tongue around the corners of his mouth, savoring the flavor. I could still feel our fluids leaking out of me. “I’m married, Brad. My husband is sterile.” I began to panic. “Immaculate conception isn’t a good excuse anymore.” “There is always plan B?” he said sheepishly. Did I offend him? I paused for a moment. “My period comes this week, I think I’ll be ok.” What are the chances, I thought? “Were you serious about having me train your husband to please you?” I laughed, “I’m not sure if that is possible. I don’t know if Frank would be ok with watching another man fuck me.” “A few years ago I had a regular fling with a couple. The guy loved to watch.” He shifted me in his arms, “Wouldn’t hurt to ask if this is what you need.” The thought of Frank watching this stud plow me reignited the fire between my legs. “I’ll consider it. But first we need to clean up.” • • • • Six weeks. It’s been six weeks since I fucked my personal trainer in a dirty janitors closet at the gym. I’m also 4 weeks late. The two have to be unrelated… My fat husband, Frank, still climbs on top of me and pumps me full of his worthless seed two or three times a week. His stamina seems to lessen with every thrust and I’m confident that by early next year he will be cumming as soon as he pulls his little dick out of his briefs.
I still fantasize about Brads thick cock filling me with his hot cum while other gym members walk by that dirty closet. I get wet just thinking about his juices mixing with mine as they ran down my leg. I haven’t scheduled any more personal training sessions. I can’t trust myself to not just grab him by that thick rod and drag him into the nearest closet or bathroom stall. One infidelity is an accident, but an ongoing affair just isn’t me. At least that’s what I tell myself.
“Honey,” Frank said from the shower, “I need you to pick up some stuff for a barbecue. I invited some people from work over this Saturday. Maybe some chicken and ribs for ten to fifteen people?” “It’s Friday.” He wants me to put together a fucking banquet in a day. “It’s only a few things, go in my wallet and grab some cash. You can invite some of your friends, too. Maybe some people from the gym?” He knew that after moving here I wasn’t able to make many friends. The only real socializing I do is at the gym, which I go to far less often after the last incident.
“They will be over around noon. I’m taking (our daughter) to my moms for the weekend and heading to the pub to see the guys. I should be home around 10.” He exited the shower, his wet belly slightly eclipsed his tiny cock. “I’ll help tidy up in the morning.” With that he dressed, kissed my cheek, took our daughter to his moms, and left me alone in our house to prepare a feast for the assholes he wanted to impress. Fucking Frank.
The grocery store was busy for a Friday night. I was able to get most of the fixings for a good cookout when I decided that a vegetable tray would be the best choice for an appetizer. As much as I dislike having a party forced on me last minute I do like to entertain. The produce section had just been restocked with some nice veggies and I began to fill my cart. “Lisa?” A voice called to me. I turned. “Brad?!” I couldn’t suppress the surprise in my voice. “How are you? I haven’t seen you since our last session.” A smirk crossed his face. “Looks like you’re having a party,” he pointed at my cart, “or is that one for tonight?” I followed his eyes to what I was holding. A foot long cucumber. I’m fairly certain I made the beets jealous of the color of my cheeks. “Oh, I,uh,” I stammered. Get it together, Lisa! “yes.” He smirked, “I mean, yes we are having a party.” I quickly placed the huge cucumber into the cart. “It’s tomorrow, if you would like to come, it starts at noon.” Am I drunk? Did I really just invite a man I let fuck me without a condom in a closet to come to my house and hang out with my husband?
“I’d love to come.” He smirked at his double entendre. I shifted my body and noticed a wet spot developing rapidly in my panties, “Maybe we could schedule some more sessions while I’m over. Or, if you have a workout room I could give you a private lesson while your guests are eating.” He slyly winked. I couldn’t find the words to reply I was so flustered. “I’ll bring a dessert. Make sure you do some stretches tonight in case you want to get a session in.” He eyed the cucumber in the cart again. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” His hand touched my hips as he made his way passed me. I could hear my heart beat in my ears. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.” I can’t believe I just did that. He walked to the checkout and I continued my shopping. I had to lean against the cart, as my legs were too wobbly to hold up my body. I have never experienced the lust that Brad could instill in me with just a touch. Luckily my leggings were black, otherwise any shopper would be able to see the prominent wet spot that my panties couldn’t absorb. As I checked out I blushed when the cashier remarked at how big the cucumber I picked out was.
The ride home calmed me down. Some slow breathing and a few 90s tunes quenched the fire between my legs and change of underwear and a sun dress cooled me down to the point I could focus again and I was able to get some prep work done. Meat:Marinating. Sides: made from scratch. Vegetable tray: I can’t stop eyeing that cucumber. As I chopped the carrots, and celery I noticed that my heart began to race again. Each chop just made me progressively more flustered. I finally put my hands on the thick cucumber and they began to tremble. It was 8 o’clock on a Friday night, my husband was out and I was stuck at home doing chores for his worthless ass.
Before I knew what I was doing my hand found it’s way beneath my dress and began to lightly touch my slit through my soaked underwear. The cucumber felt heavy in my other hand. I began to brush the cold vegetable against my nipples while my other hand increased its slow strokes. Both nipples were hard and the cool flesh of the cucumber sent shivers down my spine.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I laid myself down on our granite counter top of the island in the middle of the kitchen. Some of my prepped food was still out so i squirmed in between the bowls and cutting boards to get comfortable. I brought my hand up to taste my sweet juices that clung to my fingers as I spread them apart. The hand the held the cucumber went from teasing my nipples to teasing my slick hole. I couldn’t take it anymore.
I slid my underwear to the side and sank several inches of cool cucumber into my hot pussy. The girth surprised me to the point that I let out an involuntary moan. I inched it in further, my muscles clenching as I it tapered from its tip to the wide center. I grunted in ecstasy as I slid it out and plunged it in again. I thought about Brad’s huge cock pumping in and out of me in that janitors closet. A warm sensation enveloped my entire body.
I increased the pace as my left hand went to work on my clit. The cucumber was loosing its chill in my hot box which let me slide even more of it’s 12 inch length into my hungry hole. Minutes became hours as each stroke sent me spiraling towards bliss. I could feel an orgasm building. It wasn’t the same feeling as most of my orgasms, this one was coming from deeper inside. I furiously hammered my pussy. The sensation grew stronger the harder I pushed, my inner muscles pushing against every stroke. It hit me. My eyes rolled back and I could no longer see. A massive wave of warm light spread from between my legs as the cucumber was forcefully discharged. My back convulsed and I felt a warm liquid coat my thighs and lower legs.
I shook in bliss for what seemed like an hour. When I finally regained my senses and caught my breath I surveyed the situation. The counter top glistened with a sticky liquid beneath my ass and to the end of the counter top. I always thought squirting was a myth. It took me another five minutes before I could muster the strength to get off the counter top. My juices covered the cucumber and the veggie tray that happened to be in the splash zone. On shaky knees I wiped down the counter. The cucumber was still in good shape. Fuck it. I began to cut it up and arrange it on the tray with the rest of the now “marinated” veggies. No need to be wasteful, it’s only Frank and his friends, after all.
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.