The Key

The Key - 15


That night I was haunted by dreams of Amanda and Vicente together. Oddly, none of my dreams were anything like the times I watched them fuck. There were scenes of Amanda and Vicente strolling through sun-washed streets lined with colorful shops where he'd stop and buy her little gifts and flowers. They'd hold hands along the way, and others would look at them and smile at the perfect couple. He lifted her into the air in front of a huge, sparkling fountain, his strong hands at her waist as she gazed lovingly down into his eyes and rewarded him with a dazzling smile. They lay on the beach together side by side on a blood-red blanket, Amanda topless in one of her tiny thongs and he in a brief Speedo that flaunted the unmistakable outline of his immense cock. Amanda lay on her side next to him, caressing his huge erection through the translucent Speedo as though his cock was a beloved pet. When the head of his cock emerged, she leaned over him and planted a lingering kiss at the tip, then giggled as he pulled her face to his for a deeper, passionate kiss.

I woke again and again through the night, each time agitated and fearful that Vicente had already made Amanda his. Although I wasn't unfamiliar with her obsession with other men's cocks during her time under Charles's influence, the regret and shame that I hadn't been able to satisfy her over years of our marriage was a dark shadow I couldn't seem to shed. But Vicente was different - she had confessed it was also his confident seduction, mesmerizing charisma and perfectly sculptured, indefatigable body that ignited her desire to be with him. Yes, she loved fucking him - but she liked him, maybe a little too much. A One of Charles's comments came to mind, that Vicente disposed of women like yesterday's used condoms. I had never seen Vicente use condoms with Amanda. I shuddered when I thought about how much of his semen he'd leave in her, hour after hour, day after day, by the time she returned. Was Amanda more to Vicente than his usual disposable piece of ass?

By morning I was a crazed zombie with little sleep and gut-churning anxiety. Thoughts of them fucking began to consume me. How many times had Amanda taken his cock in her by then? How many times had she cum before she was too exhausted to go on? I imagined her bright eyes drifting upward, then closing, her wide mouth open and gasping, then drawn into a greedy grin after her crushing orgasm melted into contented bliss. "She's his woman now," I kept thinking. It became an obsession, the words refusing to leave me, stabbing at me, until exhaustion overwhelmed me and I finally slept that afternoon.

It was a huge relief to have the weekend to recover. Charles wouldn't torture me with Amanda's videos at work, and I could regain the hours of sleep I had lost. Early Sunday morning there was a text from Amanda. Attached was a photo of her on the beach, topless, in a miniscule pink thong that clearly showed the contours of her luscious pussy beneath it. She was laughing, caught in a moment of joy, obviously jubilant to be in Vicente's company.

"Hi sweetie! I'm having so much fun here! Vicente and I are at the beach today, and it's so beautiful! I knew you'd worry, so I sent a pic Vicente took a few minutes ago. He's such a tease - trying to get me to pose for pictures in front of the men here in some of my new outfits. Well, you can probably imagine the things he says. I'm getting lots of attention here, and don't even mind going topless now that I get so many compliments about my body. I can't believe I was so shy about letting men see more of me in the past. In fact, I love the way men here stare, like I'm some kind of celebrity. I hope you're okay there, and please don't worry. I love you! It's just sex. Remember that, please? Bye!"

I couldn't take my eyes off the photo. She seemed so excited, so full of life, and so painfully gorgeous nearly naked there for everyone to ogle and lust after. Was that twinkle in her eyes love? Was her effervescent laughter evidence it was much more than just sex with Vicente? Imagining her body so ******* and unrestrained triggered a twitch inside my cage, one that in the past would have led to a spontaneous afternoon lovemaking session with Amanda. Now the cage pushed back, curbing the erection that might have existed without it. I tugged at it, thinking I might discover some way to get off as I stared at the picture of my nearly naked wife freely displayed in public. Every man on the beach would be tempted. Many would try to coax her into their beds; Vicente had made her bait for every man but me. Try as I might, my erection never materialized, and I gave up in the midst of agonizing frustration.

Other than the constant stream of repeating videos showing Amanda fucking Eric and Vicente in our bedroom, my days at work were fairly peaceful. Eric had been reassigned to another location for a while, and Charles was happy just to see me sweat a little knowing Amanda was doing her best to make Vicente happy thousands of miles away from me. I tried to ignore the videos, but found myself drawn to the few minutes Amanda would gasp and cry out each time Vicente made her cum. Although it still triggered the faint beginnings of an erection, I ruminated endlessly, comparing the contortions of her sweet face and mouthwatering body to what I had seen when we had made love. There was simply no comparison. She might as well have been someone else's wife during those times, someone who got me hard, but not the wife I knew. If I watched long enough, the cage became painfully cramped, and then my erection would soften and retreat to a defeated, tiny nub of flesh again. As time passed I had fewer and fewer erections, but Amanda's cum face never failed to mesmerize me.

Amanda continued to text me daily. The photos she attached were always of her in one of her new outfits, or of her and Vicente together with his hands on her at an upscale restaurant or glitzy nightclub. As much as I looked forward to her texts and photos, the mixed messages she included ramped my angst and nervousness to new levels every day. She'd hint at how many times she and Vicente had been fucking and how he fit her fantasies of the Alpha male she had described in the past. Then she'd add a few lines reassuring me, in her way, that she loved me and that I shouldn't worry, that Vicente was taking "good care of her" and she'd see me soon. But as time passed, she never mentioned a return date, only that he would "give me back to you soon."


~*~


A week later, early on a Monday morning, I answered the chime of our doorbell to find Juliet standing on our front porch. I hadn't seen her or her husband at the office in a month or so, and I was at a loss for words. We had never really met, and I wasn't exactly unhappy about that. She seemed to treat her husband badly, and was far too much like Charles for my taste. She always emanated a kind of severe, arrogant aura, strolling through the office with a brazen air of superiority. She stood outside with her hands on her hips, clearly impatient for me to open the door.

"Oh, Juliet," I announced. "I'm surprised to see you. Can I help you with something?"

She eyed me from head to toe before she answered. "Charles sent me," she said, finally. "Can I come in?"

She was still an intimidating woman, tall and lean, with short, elegantly cropped hair, dressed entirely in black. I couldn't imagine what she wanted.

"Um, I guess - I mean, sure. Come in."

She walked by me, ran her eyes over me one more time, then took a seat. I sat across from her and waited for her to explain. When she said nothing after a full minute, I broke the silence.

"I haven't seen Jim or you for a while now. Is something wrong? Is Jim still working for the company?"

She began to open the buttons down the front of her fitted jacket as she answered me.

"Jimmy and I have separated. He wasn't the kind of man who could ever hope to keep me. We were much younger when we married, and well, you know how that is, don't you? Sometimes we outgrow you."

She wasn't shy about letting me know Charles had shared our story in graphic detail. Her aloofness and the way she spoke about Jim were menacing. Something about her made my skin crawl.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said, as I watched her shrug the short jacket off her shoulders and place it over the arm of the chair. She wore a black, tightly-laced bustier beneath it that openly displayed the heaving flesh of her full, ghostly white breasts. She looked down at her nipples as she brushed them lightly with the fingertips of both hands, then looked back up at me. I could see flexing bands of muscle and tendon rise beneath the pale skin of her slim calves and thighs. We had all seen her strut through the halls to visit Charles's office every week and were well-aware of her towering presence, but her legs were astonishing, the longest I had ever seen.

"Get out of your clothes," she told me. "Let's see you naked." Her words were emotionless, with a certainty that I'd do as I was told.

"I don't think so," I answered with all the conviction I could muster. "I won't be the subject of another one of Charles's sick videos, if that's why you're here. I think you should leave."

She ran her hands down along her bare legs, prying them open, then slowly stroked the insides of her thighs. She never looked up at me while she spoke.

"I think you will. I think you need your cushy job, this sprawling home, and those expensive cars in your driveway. I think you and your little bimbo wife will do just about anything to keep all that. Not to mention your, well, not-so-sterling sex lives, all waiting to go public on Charles's new web site. I think you'll do any fucking thing I tell you to do, just like your slutty little wife. Now, take off your clothes and get down on your knees, or I make a quick call to Charles. I'm only here because he sent me; I came a long way to do this for him, and neither Charles nor I will be happy if you don't behave."

It was beyond anything I could have imagined. Why would Charles do this once he owned Amanda and me? Amanda was practically his sex slave, and I was caged for so long my dick may never function again. Wasn't making my wife his toy and ending my sex life enough for him? What more could he possibly want or gain from humiliating me further?

"Tick Tock, cucky," she said, now standing before me, waiting for me to obey. "Strip, or I make the call to Charles."

What choice did I have? Who knew what may happen to Amanda if I refused? I still had no idea what Vicente was capable of with Amanda in his hands so far away. And as Charles had reminded me, if the very thing that made our lifestyle possible suddenly vanished, would Amanda abandon me for Charles, or Eric, or more likely now Vicente?

I stood and removed my shoes, shirt and pants, leaving me there before Juliet in my underwear. I cringed as she circled around me, taking in every inch of my body with the look of a predator eyeing its next meal. She stopped in front of me and grasped my jaw in her hand, staring into my eyes.

"Everything. Don't you know what 'naked' means? Even your cocksucking little bimbo knows that. I'm waiting..."

When she released me I pulled my underwear down past my cage and dropped it on the floor beside me. She moved back a few steps and stared at the cage, grinning.

"I had Jimmy wear one of these, for a little while before he left. I think it was the final straw for him - he complained constantly until he left me and had it removed. But you - you've lived with yours for how long, over a year now? Do you like being Charles's eunuch while he fucks your slutty little 'princess'?"

"I - I had no choice," I answered, naked and shivering before her.

"You had a choice!" she spat at me. "You two could have run the minute Charles tried to seduce her. Later, you could have been a man and walked away, but you couldn't give up the cushy job and the money Charles showered on the two of you. My husband was worthless in bed too, but at least he kept his self-respect. Instead you simply handed your wife over to him and took the money - god, it's as though Charles has been paying by the hour for your wife's pussy like she's his private little ******, and you her pimp. But I guess it wasn't entirely your fault. I've heard how hungry she is for cock. But Charles tells me you like it - watching your sweet little slut fuck other men in your bed. Is that right? Do you?"

"I - I - I guess, sometimes. I never thought she'd let Charles seduce her. Then I found out that I never satisfied her. Now that I know, I have to accept letting her have what she needs. Besides, if I don't, Charles will ruin us. I still love her - she still excites me, even when I watch her having sex with other men."

"Awww, you're still in 'love'," she said, grinning. "That's sooo romantic, loving her at a distance while Vicente puts his cock in her every day now." She circled me again as she spoke, her voice laced with sarcasm. "But it must be painful - loving her when you know she thinks so little of you, knowing that she'll be Vicente's woman once she gets a really good taste of him. But you know, I never could understand the attraction men have for a woman like Amanda. Yes, she's a cute little thing, so 'wifey' and sweet looking. And she has a nice body, but men would never know that unless they get her naked. She's been such a prudish, frustrated housewife for so long, never even telling her own husband the sex he gives her is pathetic. She's wasted half her life hiding it - all those filthy fantasies, the secret masturbation sessions when you're away, the desperate yearning for that young stallion living next to you all this time. And now, after it blows up in your face, after she's getting amazing cock from three other men, you find you like it?"

"I told you, I don't know why," I said. "It's how she looks when she, um, cums with them. I never saw her that way. I never saw her that way when I made her cum."

"You don't 'make' her cum! She decides when and if she cums. If she's fucking a man who knows what he's doing and has a decent cock, she'll, well, you've seen her with Vicente. She cums like that because he's the kind of man she's always wanted. She's having the kind of sex she's always wanted. So is that it? You're guilty for being so incompetent all this time? For getting off inside her and never noticing how disappointed she was with you when you oozed your cum into her hungry little cunt?"

"I guess it's something like that," I confessed. "She never told me. I never knew."

"Really? There were never any signs that she was frustrated with you? You never saw her look at another man and stare just a little too long at his crotch? You stood beside her while other men flirted with her and assumed her smiles and gentle touches were completely innocent? I don't believe you."

"There was, Eric, I guess," I said shamefully. "They were always so friendly, and she made a point of spending time with him when he was home from college. On hot summer days he'd mow his parent's lawn in just a pair of frayed cutoffs, and I'd see her glancing at him over and over when she thought I wouldn't notice. But he was so young - much too young for her to be tempted to, um, actually do anything. I thought it was only natural for her to look at a young, fit, half-naked guy. Amanda seemed so happy with our life. At least I thought so."

"So you just let him have her too, right? All those little hints that she was in heat for him, that she craved a cock that might satisfy her, and you refused to see it. Admit it - you knew she wanted to fuck him, even back then. You just didn't have the balls to face it. I'll bet you even fantasized about him fucking her while you were away. It's so obscenely taboo - the neighbor's hung son climbing on top of your wife in your bed while you're working day and night in another city. Did you jerk off to it too? To that embarrassing little story you just couldn't seem to stop replaying in your head, over, and over, and over?"

"I - I really don't remember," I told her. "I didn't masturbate to it - I'm sure of that. But it's not like thoughts of them together didn't occur to me. It was just - I mean, Amanda was so - "

"Yes, yes - innocent little wifey couldn't be gagging for that young stud next door, could she? Of course you knew. You knew and you obsessed over it. And you obsessed over it until you began to like those thoughts. But not without all the guilt - the guilt that you were incompetent in bed. The guilt from thinking of that young stud giving her what you couldn't. You won't even admit it now, after she's been fucking him. You're so pathetic."

"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe you're right. I am guilty. Guilty for a lot of what's happened. Sometimes it consumes me. I'm not sure how we fell into the mess we're in. Maybe it was my fault, letting Charles seduce Amanda in the first place. I'm so confused lately. I guess I must be the one responsible."

Juliet smiled at me. "We can work with that. Guilt holds you prisoner. It's a little like this key." She pulled the key to my cage from the hidden space between her breasts and held it up for me to see. "Show me your bedroom. Then get on the bed and spread your legs. Let's see what that cage has done to your tiny little dick."

I can't fully explain why I did what she said. Her presence was commanding, and the threat of what may happen to us if I didn't comply was real. But it was also her statuesque beauty that overwhelmed me. Her body was so unlike Amanda's; she was taller than I, with magnificently imposing breasts that overflowed the black bustier laced tightly about her torso. As she unzipped her leather skirt and stepped out of it, I found she wore nothing beneath it. Her narrow, tight slit glistened at its center, excited by the expectation of what she might do to me, whatever I feared that might be. Unlike Amanda's angelic face, Juliet's was a tenacious, unflinching mask with violet, narrowed eyes and a wide, predatory mouth. She had the finely chiseled features of an exquisite, imperious queen, without any hint of mercy or forgiveness. Ultimately, it was the promise to free me from my cage that made me submit to her. That, above all else was all she needed to say.

Juliet retrieved a jumble of thin, leather straps from her large handbag she had placed by the side of the bed. I lay there shaking as she bound my wrists and ankles to the head and foot of our bed, fearing what she may do to me, but still hopeful that I may be released from my cage.

"There - this is how I always picture you when Charles tells me about how you've simply handed over your pretty little bimbo to him without a single objection. I'm sure it's how Amanda thinks of you now as well - helpless and impotent, not man enough to satisfy your own wife. So, I'm here to make sure this is how you see yourself too. I must say, I'm a little wet watching you squirm after willingly letting me tie you to the bed. You're much more compliant then my Jimmy was. We're going to have so much fun together."

She strolled around the bed staring at my cage, practically gliding on the six inch stilettos. Finally, she knelt on the bed, leaned over me, and took my cage in her hand.

"Okay, let's see what this has done to your little thing by now," she told me. "I'm not sure it matters though - it's never been enough for Amanda, and she wasn't even very demanding. We both know how much that's changed, don't we?"

Juliet was a stunning woman, and I felt my dick come to life as she unlocked the cage and tugged it away from my body. Then her hands were on me; her long fingers closed around my growing erection, milking and squeezing it, beckoning me to enjoy her skilled manipulation. I groaned as she continued, raising my hips off the bed, thrusting uselessly into the air.

"My, my - so hard, so quickly? And still so disappointing," she said, her voice a velvety but frightening promise of what may come. "I can see why Amanda chose to discard you for a better man. But you must know that by now? Why she'll never fuck you, ever again?"

I had closed my eyes, lost in the sensation of her hands on me and in the expectation of my first orgasm in months. She slapped me, hard, across my face, and I opened my eyes to see her face inches from mine, her cruel eyes peering into mine like a slithering predator playing with its prey before consuming it. Suddenly her hand was grasping my balls, squeezing slowly, until the growing pain crawled up into my groin and belly.

"Now, you're going to listen to my rules. You're going to memorize them. And then you're going to obey them. Or this, is what you get each time you forget."

Another sudden squeeze sent me into a panic. The pain was debilitating, and I feared she'd crush my testicles in a single second of unmeasured punishment.

"Never take your eyes off me," she warned. "You need to see how much I enjoy this - how wet I get from crushing your balls. You need to believe I'll do anything to you to make sure you obey. I don't care if it's my face, my tits or pussy, but you must not take your eyes off me."

"I won't - I promise - " I gasped. Relief came instantly, and she moved closer to me, following the contours of my body, licking here and there, until she arrived at my dick. When she took the tip in her mouth and bored her tongue into the opening that leaked a stream of my precum, I let out a quiet moan.

"Oh, you like that, don't you. Poor thing, it's been a year, maybe even longer since you've felt her mouth on you there. Or, maybe she never did it at all. It wouldn't surprise me, a little mouse like her too "good" to put a cock in her mouth. And now, well, you'd do anything to get me to continue. Anything. Here you are with your dick hard and leaking, begging for more while a man with a cock so big it shames you uses your wife as his convenient plaything. And no matter what he does to her, using her and showing her off like his prize piece of meat, she's still so hungry for him. Now she's more than willing to put that huge cock in her mouth, and so impatient to take it inside her greedy, tight little cunt."

She backed away and took my erection in her hand, pumping and squeezing, then raked her long nails over the sensitive head with repeated, slow traces. The sensation was shattering, impossible to resist - I didn't want it to ever stop. She controlled me completely. My body was hers.

"Ahhh, it makes you harder, doesn't it? Imagining them together? Watching your pretty little wife buck and thrash under him while she begs for her orgasm. You understand now. You know, don't you? That she'll never fuck you again. That this useless dick of yours has never satisfied her, and never will. Tell me. Let me hear you say it."

"I - I know I never satisfied her. She told me that. But - I can't believe I'll never fuck her again. I won't. She - she still loves me..."

My answer seemed to disappoint her at first, then infuriate her. She shifted her attention to my balls, exploring them with determination, plucking each testicle into the probing grasp of her long, slender fingers, rolling them slowly, then lingering when she found a sensitive spot that made me twitch in pain. Her fingers sank deeper into the firm egg-like glands, probing, exploring, digging into the unforgiving flesh of each testicle. I began to writhe in pain, gasping and groaning on the bed.

"You won't need your balls, so quit your whining. Your wife doesn't like them much anyway," she said while she continued to work. "You know they'll be useless to her, that she'll never even want to touch them again. In fact, your little dick and balls have become so disgusting to her she doesn't even think of you as a man anymore. You know it, but I want to hear to say it like you believe it!"

When I refused to answer, she found the sensitive nerves leading to each testicle and took them firmly between thumb and forefinger. When she began to stroke and milk the raw nerves I went wild, my body jerking in spasms of pain. When she eased up, the tension drained from my body until she continued again, pressing harder, squeezing and rolling the cords of nerves between her fingers. After a few minutes she stopped, resting back on her haunches between my legs, watching me recover. Then she sucked the tip of my dick into her mouth again and revived my erection, teasing and stroking me with a satisfied grin.

"Ahhh, there it is again," she told me with a smug smile. "Thinking of your sweet little Amanda begging for her lover's big cock while your dick gets hard again, are we? Maybe just a little closer to admitting to yourself that she doesn't consider you a man anymore? But I don't hear your confession. Not even a whisper."

She began again, stretching and pulling my balls away from my body, then repeating her practiced kneading and milking of my balls and the nerves that sent searing pain through me. I'd see her smiling there on the bed between my legs each time she stopped before finally beginning again, over and over and over. It seemed like hours passed, and maybe they had. I was left panting and groaning in a pool of my own sweat when I finally surrendered the confession she had worked so long to hear.

"Okay, okay - I admit it. I get hard thinking of her with him. I could never do what he does to her. I never will. She doesn't think of me as a man anymore - I give her to more deserving men so she can cum with them. She's a slut - a slutty little ***** - she won't want me - ever again - just please, please stop..."

It was a confession set free by hours of agony and pain. I couldn't imagine how Juliet could torture my balls repeatedly then get me hard again. It wasn't rational. I had betrayed my wife and my manhood over and over between fantasizing about Amanda's sexual infidelities and exploits. But the images returned again and again - those of Vicente's giant cock penetrating her, filling her flat belly, and the look on her face as the overwhelming orgasms shook her then blanketed her body with a fulfilled bliss I had never been able to give her. Juliet's sadistic manipulation had crumbled the wall between the present and all hope for sex with Amanda. I didn't know if it would be a lasting surrender, but I was helpless to resist giving Juliet whatever she wanted from me. When she had started I would have done anything to be free of the cage. Now I was willing to say anything, to be anything she wanted, just to stop the unending cycles of agonizing pain and frustration.

Juliet got off the bed, gathered her clothes, and began to dress. She never took her eyes off me as I lay there. Even after enduring her humiliating torture, I found my throbbing erection returning again as she continued to tease me with Amanda's infidelity.

"You understand, don't you? That this is your life now? That your useless little dick will never find satisfaction inside a real woman again? Not even one like Amanda? Imagine what it will be like, going through life as her "loving husband" with a constant hardon for her sweet little body, knowing she gets cock from real men, never getting any kind of relief yourself. Maybe Charles will keep you in this cage forever, and you'll never, ever get to cum again. Poor little hubby, all hot and hard for his slutty little wife while you stand by and watch her fuck man after man; I imagine it will take its toll on your sanity eventually. Perpetual hardons without single orgasm for the rest of your life? I doubt even I could stay sane for very long. But I think it suits you. You're just so useless lying there with your little thing bobbing in the air."

I needed to cum desperately as I watched her tall, lean body slip slowly into her skirt and jacket. I raised my hips frantically as though something in the air above me might grasp my throbbing erection and give me relief. Instead of relief, Juliet simply watched with perverse interest, her wide, sarcastic smile cast down at me.

"There's a very small price to pay for your relief," she added, her face now inches from mine again. "Tell me what a little ***** she's become. Tell me you want her that way. Tell me we can have her - all of her. Just give her up to us once and for all."

"You might be right, about everything," I admitted, finally. "I may be worthless to Amanda, but never having another orgasm? Please, don't do that to me...let me cum, just this once. I'll do whatever I'm told - I always have. Just please, please, finish me before you put my cage back on. I'm begging you! She is a little ***** now - I know she is. She's not mine anymore - she's yours - all yours - you can do whatever you want with her."

"Hmmm, it might be interesting capturing your own betrayal of Amanda on video here in your own bed. I wonder, would she'd even stay with you if we showed her how much you loved sex with me, all while calling her a 'little *****'? I'm pretty sure she doesn't share fantasies like yours - ones where her husband fucks other women. My bet is the cock-hungry bimbo would finally leave you for a man who could actually fuck her. But, then I wouldn't have all this fun playing with both of you later. There's just something so satisfying about the way you squirm and beg. And I think Amanda may have more hidden fantasies than you know - maybe some very delicious lesbian ones. It might be fun to turn her. Maybe after she becomes my hungry little toy you'd like jerking off while you watch her pretty face buried between my legs for hours. We could still feed the little ***** some cock too now and then, but she'd be even more disgusted by your useless dick after tasting me. Just think of all the filthy, degrading things she'd crave after just a little time with me. She may not look it, but it turns out she's so fucking easy. Oh, my - you're hard again. But no cummies for you today. I do have a parting gift though."

She disappeared down the stairs, then returned with a large bowl. "Now, let's get you back to where we started..."

She dumped the bowl of ice over my crotch and waited patiently as my dick deflated. It was shocking, painfully cold, shriveling my dick and balls almost immediately. Then, as the ice melted into a wet pool under me, I watched her reattach my cage with a kind of pride only Juliet could project. Finally, she untied me and waited for me to stand.

"There now - this is who you really are," she announced. "Husband to a drooling little ***** who lives to give her cunt to better men."

The accumulation of frustration and exhaustion had taken their toll on me. Mentally, the desperate need to cum still plagued me, but the shock of Juliet's ice bath erased every trace of physical need or response. I stood before her in my cage, naked and weakened. Even after she would leave me, I knew she had succeeded in further eroding my few lingering defenses. All hope of ever reclaiming Amanda as the wife I knew, the innocent, gorgeous woman I took to our bed so many times in the past, was nearly gone. At first her loss had eaten a hole in me, a vacant space that reminded me daily that her body may no longer be mine. Now I was an empty shell, a husband in name only, a mere sexless companion who she may still love but at a great distance from the warm comfort of our bed. Juliet had made me see the inevitability of it all. I'd never have sex with Amanda again. I'd never feel her perfect body, warm and naked and yielding next to me in our bed. She'd happily fuck men who made her feel like a real woman while I watched them use her. I'd see her angelic face locked on her lover's with an adoring stare, then contort in raging orgasms as I stood by, drenched with my own cum. Thanks to Charles, Juliet knew our past all too well. Could she be just as certain about our future?