The Key

The Key - 4

Charles wasted no time finding excuses to use our house key. It seemed as if he was there constantly. I'd come home from work to find Amanda naked, on her knees, blowing him just inside the large bay window at the front of our house. I'd marvel at how desperately she worked on him, using her hands and mouth to edge him before he took her upstairs to our bed. Anyone passing by could see Amanda servicing him. I wondered how I'd face our neighbors, what I'd say to my best friend next door if he quietly told me Amanda was being unfaithful with this tall, powerful man who parked his Maserati in our driveway every day.

Knowing he'd want dinner not long after he finished using Amanda's body, I'd make one of his favorite dishes and serve both he and Amanda at our dining room table. He'd let me sit and eat with them most nights while he explained in juicy detail what he had done to Amanda just minutes before and how she loved every second of it.

"I can't believe you've kept this gorgeous creature's talents a secret for so long," he'd tell me. "It really does piss me off a bit that as long as you've worked for me you never told me how tight Amanda's pussy really is. But then, maybe it never felt that way to someone with your 'equipment'. Amanda tells me she didn't cum when you fucked her. Did you have any idea she was faking all those orgasms during the years you two have been married? A pity she didn't let me know sooner. But from what she tells me, she would have offered her pussy to me on her own eventually. She was just waiting for the right place and time."

Amanda reacted with a sudden frown, then 'shushed' him as though he was going too far.

"Charles! I didn't say that! Well, not exactly."

"Exactly how did you say it then?" he asked. "You've complained more than once that he couldn't make you cum."

"I said he couldn't very often, not that he never could, Charles. There's a big difference."

"Not to me there isn't. A real man should be able to make his wife cum every time, more than once. Did you ever tell him, Amanda? Did you tell him about that old boyfriend he never knew about, the one with a cock almost as big as mine? How you were disappointed that your husband's cock just didn't do it for you? That he was a disappointment from the night of your honeymoon to the day I first fucked you? That you were wet every time we met at a company party and I whispered in your ear that I'd have you sooner or later?"

Amanda looked down at her lap, suddenly quiet and still, then looked across the table at me. "I'm - I'm so sorry, honey - that you had to find out this way. But I always knew it wasn't your fault that your penis is small - at least smaller than my past boyfriends. But I fell in love with you, not your penis. I just liked to kiss and cuddle with you, and I did cum now and then. Maybe I did fantasize about a man with a bigger cock fucking me someday - it's just that I missed that so much, year after year. There were so many times when Charles flirted with me and then simply touched my hair or neck when you weren't looking, and I'd glance down to see the bulge in his pants and fantasize about what his cock must be like when he was hard, or what it might feel like inside me and the orgasms I'd have then. But it's not your fault. I know you can't help being born with a small penis. I just wish you would try harder in bed."

I never knew what to say to them during their talks with me. I took it all in, struggled with all the secrets Amanda had revealed to Charles, and felt smaller and smaller when I thought back over the years of our marriage when Amanda suffered in silence while she hungered for the kind of sex I couldn't give her. How many men had she fantasized about? How many had she reluctantly refused when they wanted to fuck her? And what was it about Charles that broke her resistance and finally let her fantasy Alpha man use her as he wished, knowing I may just stand by and allow it?

"Charles, we have to talk about letting him out of his cage eventually, at least temporarily." Amanda had turned to him and put her hand in his lap. I could tell her fingers were massaging his cock as she began to try to persuade him. "I don't think it's healthy to keep him from coming for such a long time. I'm not asking you to let him fuck me, or to let me touch his dick. But might you be satisfied with something else? Maybe we could just watch him jerk off while you tell him how many ways you love fucking me. Wouldn't that prove to you that he's accepted you as the only one who can fuck me now? Isn't that what you want, knowing he's given up trying to fuck me? Knowing you've defeated him and have taken my body for yourself?"

I watched and listened quietly as Amanda pleaded her case. Charles had brought her downstairs to dinner just after they fucked, and she wore only a black, lacy robe wrapped around her at the last minute and tied at the waist. It was nearly transparent, and the sight of her firm breasts and pouting nipples through the fabric made my dick strain at the bars of my cage. I couldn't help imagining how his hands must have felt on her, how the sight and feel of her slim, silky body must have had him hard instantly. Was she thinking how much better he was than me as he pistoned in and out of her tight little pussy? Did she beg him to fuck her, and then took the full length and girth of his cock, wishing she could have had a man like him in her bed since the day we were married?

"It's admirable that you have so much pity for him, Amanda," he told her. "But I don't think it's time yet. Yes, he knows you'd rather fuck me than him now. And he may be on his way to accepting it. But he has to want it, Amanda. He has to give your body to me willingly. He has to see us as the perfect sexual couple and himself as the undeserving eunuch. I don't want him hard at all when he sees you naked. He has to be broken from that, to relish the fact that you only want my cock now, and that you're not a sexual object of any kind to him. That's when he deserves his freedom."

Amanda looked over at me, her eyes hopeful that I'd understand. "So, can you do that, sweetie? Can you give up thinking of my body as yours and find pleasure in giving me to him? You told me you get hard imagining Charles and me fucking in our bed. At least that's a start. Can you learn to be happy giving me a beautiful home life while I get all the sex I need from Charles?"

"All the sex?" I asked, stunned at her proposal. "You mean we'd never have sex, ever again?"

"Well, 'never' is a pretty strong word, sweetie. I suppose there might be a time when Charles grows tired of me and gives me back to you. I'd really miss his cock, but I know he'll want one of the new, younger wives eventually. But you shouldn't count the hours until that day comes. He says my pussy's tighter than any wife he's had so far. Couldn't you settle for just doing yourself if he lets you out of your cage? We could get you some dirty movies to watch, maybe even ones we make when Charles and I fuck. You could learn to think of sex as an activity I do with Charles, not you, every time you cum. Imagine jerking off as much as you want, grateful that Charles gives me every bit of cock that I need, and that you don't disappoint me anymore."

I watched Amanda's nipples get harder as she spoke to me. I cringed when I realized that making me her eunuch was exciting her. She had freed Charles' cock from his pants and was milking it gently with her fingers, making sure I could see every caress. Her face was hopeful, both that I would agree to take her advice, and that she might own his cock just as he owned her body.

"Maybe what he needs is a harsher lesson, Amanda," Charles said. "I think it's time we give him that. From what you've told me, he's ready."

It was disturbing to see Amanda turn down the bedspread and sheets on our bed for him as though she was inviting him to fuck her there. I stood in the open doorway and watched, shaking with fear.

"Well, come in and sit, here in this chair by the foot of the bed. I want you to remember each of Amanda's gasps and moans while I show you how it's done. Try to remember that each little sound she makes is for me, not you. You'll see a new look in her eyes, and a kind of smile on her face you've never seen before. Try to find pleasure in the fact that she's saving your job and the lifestyle you both enjoy. It all makes sense, doesn't it? That I should enjoy her body whenever I want, and that you learn to be happy to give her back the sex life she's been so hungry for, for so many years now."

They embraced at the side of the bed, kissing deeply and passionately. He stripped the robe off her and she quickly removed his clothes as if she was impatient to get his cock in her. They kissed again, their naked bodies pressed tightly together.

"Tell me," he ordered.

"I want you, not him," Amana answered without hesitation.

"Why?" He asked.

"Because you fuck me better, Charles. You make me cum."

"Such a dirty little wife," he teased. "You don't even care that your husband's listening."

"He has to know," she said between gasping breaths. "He has to hear it, he has to accept it."

Their fucking was brutal and long. I had underestimated how outrageously huge his cock was, and how she could easily take every bit of it. Her pussy seemed so greedy for it, sucking it inside her with each of his powerful strokes. Her moans were as Charles had said, long and desperate, aching for the cock she had needed for so long. I watched him enter her slowly. Then he'd stop and tease her, and enter her again just a bit farther each time until the engorged root of his cock penetrated her to the hilt. I couldn't believe her pussy could possibly open far enough to welcome it, but she finally took all of him in a single, swift, deep stroke.

"Do you want more?" he asked.

"Yessss..."

"Every night?"

"Yessss, and every day," she gasped.

"And you'll never miss your husband's dick?"

"I just want yours - he has to know that."

Charles looked back over his shoulder at me. "Do you understand now? Is it finally real to you? That she only wants me to fuck her from now on?"

It was impossible to deny. I had never seen Amanda so excited, so out of control during sex. She had locked her legs around him and was clutching his ass with both hands, pulling him in, craving even more than he had given her. How could I have gone so long without understanding what she needed?

"I - I understand," I told him, still staring at the base of his cock where it entered her. "I'm so sorry, Amanda - that I could never give you what you needed. But now I know. Now I understand."

He began thrusting into her with long, powerful strokes. I could hear her little grunts when he jolted her with each thrust. She looked so tiny under him, so fragile and helpless compared to his hulking, muscular body. Seeing him naked for the first time was frightening but impressive. I could see why the other wives agreed to let him fuck them for as long as he wanted.

"Pay attention now," he told me. "I'm going to cum in her. And it's going to be long and deep inside her. Amanda loves that. Tell him, Amanda."

"Yessss, I love it. I love all of it, every drop. In my mouth, and especially in my pussy. Cum in me Charles - cum in me!"

"You have to want it too..." he growled, holding back his spew into her until he heard my answer."...as much as she does, if you ever want out of that cage. Do you? Do you want it? My sperm flooding you pretty little wife's pussy?"

I knew he'd cum in her in spite of the answer I gave him. I know Amanda wanted it. I was convinced of that. And I knew it might free me from the pain and frustration of my cage.

"I want it..." I said finally. The words just came pouring out of me. "I want it in her, your sperm in my wife, your cum in my Amanda. I do - I really do."

He threw his head back and groaned as he drained himself into her. There was so much semen, flowing, frothing, the excess leaking from her clenching pussy. Amanda's eyes were closed; she was in a kind of semi-conscious bliss, an enticing sight I had never witnessed. I wondered if she was always like this when he fucked her, whether he had taken her to new heights of erotic extremes I could never hope to match. She simply lay there wallowing in afterglow, drenched in pools of his sweat and cum.

It was then he looked back at me and grinned. "Now I'm going to roll her over and fuck Amanda's ass. But first, ask her if that's what she wants."

He was already impossibly hard again and was turning her and lifting her ass off the bed. He couldn't possibly be ready to fuck her again so soon. But his cock never seemed to tire, always huge, rigid, and ready to impale my sweet wife. Trying to ever compete with him would have been humiliating and futile.

"Amanda," I asked quietly, my voice weak and broken. "Is he right? Do you want this? To give him everything right in front of me? Does he really own that much of you?"

Her face was turned away from me half hidden in the pillow, but I could still just barely hear her answer. "More than anything. I want to give him everything, all of me. Use me, Charles. Pleease, use me so he can see..."

I watched him ease into her, then stroke faster, stretching her until I thought he would tear her open. But she just moaned - long, satisfied, unrelenting proof that she had meant what she said. When he stopped, buried to the hilt inside her, I could see the thick root of his cock spasm and contract as he filled her one more time. Amanda was shaking, thrusting her ass up toward him. "Oh Charles - oh fuck - yes - cum in me - fill me - show my husband why I can't resist your cock..."