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“Dee?”
My wife of twenty years seemed immediately taken aback by the person saying hello to her. I had no idea why. He was tall and well built, probably a few years older than her, making him possibly in his late forties.
“Oh, errr hi Alan,” she said, her voice was at least 2 octaves higher than I’d ever heard it. Dee’s usual confident poise was gone immediately. She sounded younger and, somehow, smaller. The guy – Alan – sat down next to Dee without invitation. Visiting from out of town, we had decided to ride the bus downtown to go to dinner and maybe dancing. We had been sitting opposite each other, but it should have been clear we were a couple – even if she hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring. Dee had on an attractive – but not slutty – outfit. The black, knee length dress and stockings showed off her shapely legs and the silky fabric clung well to her small, shapely breasts.
“So how have you been?” he asked. He must have noticed her discomfort. You could almost taste it in the air. She shifted away from him in her seat, but his demeanor gave her no choice but to answer the question.
“Umm, ok thanks,” her voice quavered on the last syllable.
“It’s been a long time,” he said, still offering no acknowledgment to me, her husband, sitting directly opposite.
“I haven’t seen you since. . .” he trailed off deliberately. His eyes were fixed on her, as though he were drinking her in, or picturing her in some other setting. “So, aren’t you going to ask how I am, Dee?”
She looked up, uncertainty on her face. She was obviously shaken by his sudden appearance, but my confident, outspoken wife would normally tell the guy where to go if she wasn’t happy. “How are you, Alan?” she asked in a subdued voice. She had turned herself towards him now, obviously accepting that he wasn’t going anywhere. Alan-Alan-that name was familiar to me, but from where?
“I’m great Dee! You’re looking pretty good yourself. Let me see that pretty face.” he said, brushing her hair away from her face. I couldn’t believe the way he was talking to my wife, with me sitting right there. Something about her response froze me in place, though. All I could do was watch the encounter unfold in front of me. “You’re just as pretty as the last time I saw you. You do remember that don’t you Dee?” he said with a smirk.
Her eyes darted toward him, then toward me, then down. “Yes, I remember,” she admitted. ”But that was a long time ago, Alan.”
”Of course it was, beautiful,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I’m just reminiscing. It’s a good memory, isn’t it? Don’t tell me you don’t think about it. I know that you do.”
“Of course I remember, Alan,” she demurred. “You took advantage of me and humiliated me! I can’t believe you even expect me to talk to you!”
Alan! Of course! When I first met Dee, it was months before she was comfortable enough to talk to me about Alan. She told me about him after we had been together a while. She told me he had seduced her when she was just out of high school. He had used her as his plaything. He had treated her like a living sex toy, making her do things she said she would never do again for any man. She’d refused to go into much detail, and I tried to be understanding and supportive – though I couldn’t help but be curious about the power he must have had over the lovely, young Dee.
During the first few months we were together, I would sometimes awaken to hear Dee moaning in her sleep, saying “Ohhhh, Alan!” It drove me crazy and, I would start kissing and stroking her until she woke, then she would beg me to fuck her as hard as I could. Though it was some of our hottest sex, she never spoke about it afterwards. Eventually the dreams seemed to go away, and my curiosity receded, leaving only fond memories. I couldn’t believe that she was sitting there talking to THAT ALAN!
“Oh, Dee,” he grinned at her and moved his hand lightly on her shoulder, gently stroking her silken skin. “Humiliated is such a strong word. The way I remember it, we had an incredible animal chemistry. We were young and adventurous, and we had some really good times together. Doesn’t that sound right to you?”
“No Alan!” she said, her voice rising slightly, though not loud enough for other bus passengers to hear “You treated me like a slut – a toy! I asked you to be nice, to treat me nicely, and you wouldn’t. You made me beg, made me do things for you, do things to myself, humiliate myself for you!” She was getting braver now, finding her voice again. She had just been shocked to see the guy again.
“Hmmm… and what happened after that Dee?” he asked, that maddeningly smug grin still on his lips.
“I… I….”
“Because I remember quite clearly.” His hand had slid down her shoulder, and he began stroking her upper arm in a way that I wasn’t happy about at all. Still though, I wouldn’t have stopped this for anything. “You certainly didn’t ask me to stop, did you gorgeous?”
Dee couldn’t speak. She couldn’t respond. Her shining eyes flitted to mine for a split second, then down, then back to his. “Quite the opposite in fact!” He didn’t elaborate, but again his hand slipped further down, resting on my bride’s knee.
Surely, she would swipe the hand away! She would tell him he was speaking nonsense and come sit beside me. She didn’t move from her seat though. When Alan placed his hand on her stocking-clad knee, he seemed to have broken what little resistance my wife was offering. I was astonished to see her legs part slightly as his hand began to stroke lightly up and down, from her knee to the edge of her skirt, pushing the light fabric up a little more with each stroke. My beautiful wife shuddered and her eyes fluttered closed.
“Such a good girl… so eager to please,” he murmured. “I remember exactly how responsive you were last time I touched you. It’s like you just can’t help yourself, can you?”
“No, please…please, Alan,” Dee moaned, her voice barely audible, and not very convincing.
“You see,” he began speaking casually, as if he were discussing the weather. “I know what you really want, my hot little Dee. You say you want to be treated like a lady, but your body knows better. Look how hard your nipples are getting… your beautiful little titties, just begging to be touched… sucked… nibbled. I’ll bet, in your mind, you’re flashing back to me pinching and twisting them as I pushed you to your knees. I’ll bet you’re thinking of how I fingered your pussy until you came, aren’t you. Remember how I gently stroked your clit until you were writhing, then finger fucked you until you were screaming? Then I slapped your pussy didn’t I, Dee? Did you ask me to stop then? We both know you didn’t, did you? I touched, probed and slapped your wet little pussy until you were reduced to moaning. You couldn’t even form words anymore, could you?
During this entire monologue, Alan kept stroking my wife’s leg. He went no further than her mid-thigh. Eyes closed, her hips began to move with his rhythm, as if she were urging his touch higher. But Alan was in no hurry. He limited his touch, frustrating her desire for more.
Remember when I made you beg to suck my cock? But I still wouldn’t let you have my cock, would I Dee? You begged for it, but I refused you, didn’t I? I took it out and let you see it, but I wouldn’t let you have it. Remember how badly you wanted it? Remember how frustrated you got when I rubbed it against your face, even slapping you with it? I promised that, if you made yourself cum really hard, I’d let you taste my cock. Do you remember how you played with your pussy for me, Dee? You stroked yourself, and fingered yourself… do you remember how hard you came? How many times I made you cum before I decided you’d cum hard enough?
Do you remember how eagerly you sucked my cock? You were my little slut by then, weren’t you Dee? You worshipped my cock. You kissed and licked and sucked it, getting me hard…harder… rock hard. You’re thinking about that, aren’t you Dee?” He said her name slowly, like he was tasting it. My wife’s legs crept a little further apart and her skirt was at mid-thigh, her panties just beginning to peek out.
Leaning a little closer, Alan’s voice became lower and more insistent as his hand traced longer, firmer strokes higher along my wife’s inner thigh. “Do you remember my cock, Dee? Throbbing in your mouth, hot and hard as an iron rod? Remember begging me to fuck you with it? Begging me to throw you down and take you with it, pound you with it, fill you up with it? Do you remember how wildly you fingered your pussy while you moaned around my hot iron rod, Dee? Do you remember begging me to fuck you? Do you, Dee? You do, don’t you?
“Right now, you’re remembering how it felt when I finally drove my rock-hard cock deep into your wet, tight pussy over and over while you moaned and screamed for more. You’re remembering how I fucked you until your whole body was wracked by one shaking orgasm after another – how I came deep inside you and left you quivering in ecstasy. You’re remembering that right now aren’t you, Dee?” My wife was writhing in her seat as if she were feeling everything he described. She bit her lip and said nothing, but her head began nodding in response to his questions.
“In fact, I bet you’re soaking wet just from listening to my voice, aren’t you Dee?” Alan was whispering into her ear now, barely audible from where I sat. His hand was running roughly up and down the inside of her thigh, squeezing and pinching and stroking.
My beautiful, petite wife was breathing raggedly and visibly shaking. Tears were in her eyes yet she showed absolutely no sign of resisting him. In fact, her legs had spread further and further apart as he spoke to her. Her panties were clearly visible now – white and lacy under the black dress. “No answer? Let’s see what your body says, shall we?”
I saw his hand moving under my wife’s skirt, blocking my view of her panties for a moment. I heard a tearing sound as my wife let out a soft gasp of surprise. Alan’s eyes lit up immediately. I knew what he had found. He brought his hand up in front of her face, two fingers visibly glistening. Looking down, I could see my wife’s shredded lace panties, ripped open, and her beautiful pussy, dripping wet and swollen with desire.
“What’s this Dee?” Alan asked “What is this all over my hand? It’s running out of your pussy and all over your seat!” Dee let out a little moan but said nothing. The tears that had been welling in her eyes were now streaming down her face. He stroked her lips with his wet fingers, and she obediently opened her mouth for him. She licked and sucked her juices from his fingers while he watched dispassionately. He put his hand back under her skirt, and my wife gave another desperate moan.
“Answer me, Dee. Why is your hot little pussy so wet?”
“Buh-buh because….” she choked out between sobs and her ragged, aroused breathing
“ ‘Buh-buh because’ you’re still my little slut, aren’t you? You loved giving yourself to me, and you would love to do it again right now – even with your husband watching – wouldn’t you? Your beautiful little body is telling me everything I need to know Dee. You’re practically doing the splits to let me touch you. You’re breathing like you’ve just run a marathon. And, most importantly,” he said, moving his had beneath my wife’s black skirt, “your hot, tight little cunt is soaked and wide open for me.”
He turned his body further towards her and brought his other hand up into her long, dark hair. He grabbed a handful of it and yanked her neck back as the hand between her legs began to move with heated purpose.
Dee let out a guttural moan, the likes of which I had never heard her make before. Heads turned toward us, but most of them looked quickly away. Alan kept up the stream of filth in my wife’s ear. “Yeah, you made noises just like that every time, didn’t you? Every time I drove my hard cock deep into your tight, wet little pussy. Remember, Dee?”
“Yessss…. Alan.”
“You loved that didn’t you Dee? You loved having me deep inside you, rock hard and throbbing with desire, didn’t you, Dee.” Every time he said her name, it seemed to have a physical affect on her.
“Uhh! Yessss Alan.”
My wife’s eyes had glazed over completely now. She was barely aware of her surroundings at all. People on the bus were openly watching her being ravished now. My face was burning with humiliation, but there was nothing I could do at this point. I had let it go too far. Dee began breathing in soft, keening sighs, punctuated by the guttural noises I had never heard her make before.
“Look me in the eyes and tell me you loved it, Dee.” He said her name like a caress.
“Alan… uhhh… Alan, I-uhhhh,” she could barely get the words out. “I loved it.”
“You loved what, Dee?”
“Alan… Please! I-uhhh-I loved your cock inside meeee-ohhh, god!
“What did you love about it? Tell me, Dee”
My wife was breathing harder, like she couldn’t catch her breath. “I loved how big it was… how thick… how hard it was… like steel… hard as steel… I loved your cock, Alan.” She moaned.
He smiled at that. “You LOVED it? Don’t you still love my cock, Dee? Haven’t you missed my hard cock, Dee? ” he whispered. “Tell me the truth, and I’ll let you cum.”
My wife was completely his now. “Ooohhh Alan.” she moaned, “Yessss… I’ve missed your cock, Alan! I’ve missed it, Alan! I’VE MISSED YOUR BEAUTIFUL COCK, ALAN!”
For the first time since approaching my wife, Alan looked at me. He smiled – smirked, really – and winked at me. Then he started moving his hand even more quickly, whispering in my wife’s ear so softly I couldn’t hear what he was saying. She just moaned and answered, “Yes, Alan. Yes, Alan! Pleeeeaasssee Alan!” over and over. All I could really hear was the squishing of my wife’s juices as he worked his fingers in and out of her pussy.
Suddenly Dee’s back arched, her legs jerked together, spasming around his gyrating hand, holding it in place. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she began moaning, “Ohhhh Alan! OOOOHHHHH ALAN!” In a flash I was remembering the dreams from twenty years earlier. Dee was moaning and calling his name in exactly the same way. My wife was calling out another man’s name while she writhed in orgasm right in front of me, with a busload of strangers watching!
Alan slowed his pace and Dee came down from her orgasm. His tone became conversational again. “That’s a good girl, Dee. You haven’t really changed, have you?” he said, bringing his hand out and wiping the glistening fluid on her face. “You’re still a real gusher for a man – he smirked at me again – who knows how to prime the pump! You’re still one hot little slut, Dee.”
Alan nonchalantly wiped the rest of my wife’s juices on her blouse, squeezing her titties as he did so. Her pussy was gaping and her dress and the seat were drenched in her juices. Dee closed her eyes and pressed her face against his arm.
Abruptly, Alan stood up and pulled the bus cord. “This is my stop, Dee. That was fun. You are still very pretty. You should pull your dress down, though. You look like a real slut. But then, a real slut would follow me off this bus and beg me to fuck her.” With that, he leaned down, softly kissed my wife’s forehead, and murmured, “Dee.” in that same seductive tone.
Alan walked down the aisle without a backward glance at Dee or me. He had taken complete control of my wife right under my nose, ravished her in public, and now, he was walking away without so much as a “kiss my ass!” Not that my wife had paid me much more attention!
With a guilty glance my way, Dee dragged herself up on unsteady legs and said, “Sorry Sweetie, but I’ve gotta do this.” She pulled her dress down and stepped into the aisle. “Alan, wait!” Everyone on the bus was looking at her now, but she only had eyes for him. “Alan, please!” she pleaded as she rushed to follow him off the bus.
Alan didn’t even look back. Dee hurried down the steps after the man who had humiliated her repeatedly as a young woman, and – today – had humiliated both of us! My loving wife seemed to have forgotten I even existed as she followed Alan down the street, begging him to fuck her and promising to do anything he wanted. The image that sticks in my mind as I write this is the huge wet spot on the back of my wife’s dress and the trails of juices running down both legs.
In a daze, I was barely aware of the smirks and sympathetic looks from other passengers. I borrowed some Kleenex from an older lady and cleaned up my wife’s seat. She murmured something about how all women have needs and gave me a knowing look that – to me – said, “Cuckold.” I got off the bus at the next stop. I still have those Kleenex.
I don’t even remember eating dinner – though I know I did. I caught a bus back to the hotel and waited, not sure what it all meant. Dee called me about two hours later to tell me she was OK and would come back after she finished “catching up” with Alan. In the background, I could hear him telling her exactly what to say. He seemed to think it was very funny. She called me to “check in” a couple of times a day, but I didn’t see my wife again until three days later, about two hours before our flight home. Dee still won’t talk to me about her tryst with Alan except to say it was nice to “catch up.” But nearly every night, I wake up to hear her moaning in her sleep and murmuring, “Ohhhh Alan!”
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