Carefully, I knot the silken blindfold behind your head. Sitting on your lap, I sit upright to overlook my preparations: your hands cuffed to the bedposts, arms open wide, the delicate fabric covering your primary sensory organ, the broad shoulders over your muscular chest with just that cute yet not sylvan patch of stray body hair I sometimes play with, your legs apart with the ropes pulling on your ankles, keeping you spread-eagled, nearly unable to move.
I giggle as I remember you can't see how I obliviously bite my bottom lip and press my exposed dainty breasts together in the way you find so irresistible. The tilt of your head tells me you're trying to rely on your ears to comprehend the situation, proving the blindfold is placed as intended—not that there is much to see in the dim flickering of the candlelight anyway.
You didn't even notice the poorly concealed naked spectator standing in the shadowy corner of our marital bedroom when I dragged you in here. Partly, but not chiefly, because you wouldn't expect to find anyone standing there, I’d wager, but mostly because all it took was a sugary sweet batting of my eyelashes and your undivided attention was directed to me.
You're so easy.
Is this how she seduced you too? Just couldn't keep your hands off her, could you? To think you tried to act like nothing and almost got away with it... Little did you know I noticed the subtle changes in your demeanor, the ever so brief moments of hesitation, how you practically pierced back into my eyes, switching between them a little more erratically as if trying to read if I know.
Silly you.
I purr as I feel your half-erection poke against the crotch of my knickers through your boxers and barely resist the urge of just welcoming it in my dripping wet cunt right away. Instead, I get off you, make sure I capture the expression of disappointment on your face before I step to the dresser.
As I've already carefully prepared the Veuve Clicquot, I only need to fill the two Champagne flutes with the chilled sparkling gold. I once again snicker at how you are carefully listening to the sound of the Extra Brut filling the glass. You are still clueless about what’s awaiting you, and with the veil obstructing your view, all you can detect is me humming a merry tune while you are bereft of any visual inputs and unable to notice the little changes in my behavior
It's exactly these subtle differences in yours that made me suspicious. It would have passed unnoticed had it only been for a day or two. I would have brushed it off as momentary distress caused by work or whatever but seeing how you still desperately try too hard to hide something from me is just pathetic, hun—just as pathetic as your attempt at seeking validation from another woman. Is my unconditional devotion to our marriage not good enough anymore? And why hide it if all I ask is honesty? You could have just asked.
Back to the bed, I hold one glass in my hand while gently caressing your midriff with the other with the gentlest scratching of my nails. I land a trail of soft kisses leading from your chest to your belly button, letting my tongue poke your skin with every peck. Cautiously, I let a bit of the sparkling wine dribble into this tiny receptacle on your stomach.
Your body tenses up as you feel the first contact with the cool liquid. I give it my best lady-like slurp and crawl up to kiss you and let the fermented grape juice fall into your mouth.
I smirk inwardly at your surprise—but just as much at the little scheme I have laid out as revenge.
Lucky for you, I'm not very jealous, really. I knew it would happen—a self-fulfilling prophecy. What does sting, however, is your dishonesty; you actually thinking you can keep this from me although I've made crystal clear I would never be mad at you for being honest. Are you really so much of a coward or just too proud to admit that I was right about her? Or maybe too ashamed? Whichever it is, it's downright deplorable, babe.
Hence why I invited our guest.
To make a show of it.
To tease you.
To punish you.
To degrade you.
To make you enjoy the regret.
You can't see my crooked, smug smile as I reach out to him, you still unaware of his presence. Only as our glasses clink, you nudge your head again, searching for the meaning of this unforeseen, yet distinct noise.
A gasp leaves your gaping mouth as you hear the characteristic sound of lips breaking a kiss—your uncertainty rising, your ears pricked up to detect even single phonons in the thickening æther of our bedroom. The next contact of my lips with his is deliberately louder.
The renewed vocal emanation, growing in despair over your inability to see me—or him, or us, or just me playing with your senses?—makes me snicker again. By now, you must feel how the anxiety is creeping up your belly, making your heart pump the first surges of adrenaline through your entire body, stiffening that pole in your boxers further.
I crawl back onto the bed, straddling you, leaning over you so our lips can meet again softly. I let my fingertips run over your face just at the seam of the blindfold, taunting you with just the occasional glimpse of light, yet not granting your retinas their fuel they’ve never craved more.
His fingers travel down my spine while I press my breasts against your upper body. I purr and shiver from his touch, and you try vainly to yank your arms out of the shackles; you know too well the touch needed to cause this reaction in my body. With your suspicions near-confirmed, your insecure moans turn into aggressive groans that I too easily appease with my playful coos and by rubbing my crotch against the steel-hard erection begging to be freed.
Yet your relief is only temporary as, from behind, foreign fingers circle the damp patch on my panties, brushing your balls, causing me to squirm and hum lasciviously into the next peck I plant on your lips. Your rising anger tells a different story than your aroused cock.
I giggle at your defenselessness as I slide the blindfold off your eyes. They first lock with mine, scanning them for answers, but solely finding mischievous amusement over your distress. Only after a few seconds, your focus shifts to none other than your step-brother who, standing right next to the bed, naked, greets you with one raised eyebrow and a dirty leer.
In your rage, you try to free yourself of your restraints, only barely able to arch your back. I push you down with all my weight on one hand. I shake my head slowly, punishing you with a look that could kill. You understand and I see tears of despair shoot in the reddened orbs looking back at me as conflicting emotions crash down on you over the realization that you were never really able to hide your extramarital indiscretion from me.
You submit to me as I crawl off your body, to the end of the bed and release your prized cock from the confinement of the waistband. Presenting my heart-shaped tushy to your closest childhood companion, I bite my bottom lip, eyes transfixed to yours. You move your gaze behind me in fear. Before I realize what you’re looking at, I feel your step-brother's nose dig into my labia, parting them for the velvety touch of his divine tongue.
Still stroking you, I keep my pupils locked with yours, forcing you to observe the contortions of forbidden indulgence being etched onto my face. My soft pout forming a soft fleshy ring around your thickness, however, lets you temporarily forget your wife’s cruel payback.
Overwhelmed by the sensation, you throw your head back, regaling in the pleasure of the hums vibrating on your hardened shaft as my lips engulf it and I ever so slowly slide the length up and down—just the way that brings you to the edge so quickly.
I can tell you feel the vibrations intensifying by the growing frustration in your moans as your rival of old days plays with my clit. I let go of your cock just before I know you'd shoot your load and ruin my plans you have yet no idea about. As he stops his oral administrations as well, I purr in unmet needs and wiggle my bottom for him while still looking at you, observing your reaction.
Pleased by seeing the mix of despair and begging that has pushed away the fury in your expression, I pull the waistband of your boxers and let it snap against your belly. Your growing frustration motivates me to place a soft kiss on your balls through the thin undergarment.
Grinning at you, I sit between your legs, spreading mine so you can see the mess your step-brother has made of my underwear and how my engorged lips hug the flimsy excuse for a crotch, yearning for his touch. He moves behind me and places his hands on my belly, pulling me close to him. I throw my head back and tilt it so our lips meet again, this time to your full display. Eyes closed, I hear the ropes on your feet and the chains on the manacles strain over the bed frame as you once more struggle to free yourself. The same nefarious smile flashes over my face again.
Your thrashing grows more intense as you see your big brother's hands sully my belly with their touch and move to my breasts. How many times have I—much to your displeasure—overtly fantasized about his large, calloused paws and how they would profane the most sacred places on your wifey’s body, squeeze those small, milky pale breasts, pinch my nipples to the point where tears would form in the corner of my eyes, making me beg for him to stop.
One firm yank and far fly the ruined panties—the laced ones you got me for our anniversary.
Now you're watching your faithful wife surrender to her deepest fantasies right before your eyes, giving herself to the incarnation of her wet dreams, her secret crush—your most dangerous rival she once promised to keep her away from. Just as easily—and unhesitantly—broken as your oath you so simply cast aside. Did you really forget to consider that precisely this might catalyze what you’ve successfully prevented from happening all this time—your brother taking what you love, cherish and seek to protect from him most... like so many times before?
My body shudders and I moan into our renewed glossal duel as his index brushes my clit. I only manage to partly open my eyes to watch the stew of growing misery and fuming anger brewing in yours as his fingers approach the source of the expanding stain on our marital bed. Your gaze is frantically switching between my face and my snatch, desperate for something to hold on to, begging me to stop while your manhood grows to a size I have never observed, telling a contradicting story. You have no idea how much gratification I derive from seeing you struggle.
You watch his fingers first gently probe the entrance to my most intimate place before plunging into my wanton cave. I welcome the intrusion with a moan that speaks volumes of suppressed desire. Unsurprisingly, you comment my vocal emanations with your own, although it is evident that your resolve is melting and you too are falling victim to your dirtiest fantasy: to see your wife losing herself, turning to useless putty melting from the tantalization of a competing mate.
Despite his soft touch, the coarseness of his hands makes me shiver every time his fingertips coat my erect button with another layer of my copiously flowing secretions. He digs deep into me, letting me savor every dive of his digits as you observe with the fascination of a mouse hypnotized by the snake's dance how his repeated invasion of my temple slowly pushes me towards my climax.
To my greatest torturous chagrin, however, he retreats his fingers from my kitten, making me squirm in futile protest. He licks his juice-covered extremities while captivating your anxious stare, content arrogance written all over his face. He makes a show of inhaling the rich scent of my lust, half-closing his eyes still locked on yours.
He adjusts his position so he can lay down next to you, his feet by your head, knees bent, enormous erection pointing to the ceiling. You recognize the position. Although you try with all your might to keep a straight face, your fading complexion gives away your excited terror as your own cock stretches itself to its limits in an attempt to compete with your stepbrother's.
You watch as I straddle him, facing you, body leaning back, legs spread as far as the position allows, his fingers reaching around me to part my labia. Much like a salivating black hole, my pussy yearns to be fed while all you get to do is observe how his superior member slowly separates my nether lips further, pokes against my hole and slowly slithers in, filling me, stretching me, splitting me in two.
I let out a gasp with my head thrown back as his first thrust slides in deeper, deliberately slowly, filling me to unprecedented depths, scratching an itch I didn't even know I had. Once his balls hinder further intrusion, mercifully, he allows me to get used to the sheer mind-bending infiltration. Is it this sense of fulfillment that you felt too when you desecrated her cunt?
As my gaze falls upon your incredulous expression, I can't help a self-satisfied smile that soon gives way to my irises rolling backwards in ecstasy as I feel your step-brother move inside me. Even when my release shudders through my entire body, you keep staring closely at how your wife's swollen flesh hugs his manhood and her pussy salivates over his shaft. Just look at it closely and drink it in, brand it into your memory, Sweetness.
Reluctantly, I climb off his throbbing cock but I have to remember my carefully laid-out payback scheme aimed at not only abasing you but, most importantly, emphasizing how trust between us is essential.
I kneel down between your legs, lean forward, hook my fingers into the waistband of your boxers seeping with fresh surges of your pre-cum and free that iron pole of yours that's been struggling against its restraints just as much as you did just minutes before. I place the elastic band firmly under your jewels, carefully making it squeeze them just that delightful bit.
You gasp as I cup them when I stick out my tongue to lap the freely-flowing lubricant, catching it, spreading it all over your glans before I swallow your entire length, displaying my skills in pleasing you, in letting you screw my lewd little throat while he kneels behind me again, pressing his face against my buttocks like before.
From your perspective, we're just repeating the previous tease. What you don't know, nonetheless, is how his tongue ventures into forbidden territory. Poor you, having no idea just how far I'm willing to go today to make you regret your faux-pas.
I giggle, still face-fucked by you, as I hear the characteristic crack of the plastic bottle lid. The trickle of the viscous oil down my crack tickles me. The moment I feel your brother's lubed finger tracing my cleft up and down, nearly hooking into my anus every time it runs over it, I throw you an examining glance, studying how you start to realize how much further I am planning to demean you than just simple cuckoldry. I hum as I feel his finger circle the taboo entrance, zeroing in on it with every turn. Finally, I nearly cave as I feel his finger gently force into the place I have not yet been able to besmirch.
Oh, that pricelessly dumbstruck expression on your face... You know too well the few times I gave in to your begging, you got too excited and caused more damage than good with your boyish impatience, never managing to push past the narrow ring, you adorably flawed husband of mine.