My Wife Doesn't Cheat - Sex Story

I met Bonnie just over a year ago and was completely turned on by her. Not only does she have a full bust and not too thick waist, but her hips are huge, her thighs well padded and -- what excited me the most -- her ass is immense, wide and jutting way out. Even her face was the type I prefer, a bit broad, with high cheekbones, dark eyes, and overly full lips. She has long thick hair, usually worn parted in the middle. All that was the good news. The bad was that, on our first date, she made it plain that when it came to sex she would give the orders and I would obey. That night we went back to her place, which wasn't especially neat or clean, and she introduced me to eating pussy, something I had always been turned off by the thought of and so had never done. Maybe I would have tried it before that, just to make some date happy, except that I hadn't gone out much and only with 'nice' girls.

So there I was, in Bonnie's bed, on her unwashed sheets, with my face pressed against her hairy snatch. She smelled kind of rank down there and I hated having to slide my tongue all over her thick pussy lips and suck her big clit, but while I was doing that I got to have my hands on those vast, smooth hips that I craved so much. Instead of sitting on the sofa with some dull girl who wanted to talk about her cats or her knitting, at least I was in having some kind of sex with a woman whose body was my idea of perfection. It would have been better if, after I gave her three wet orgasms she had done something for me in return but, like I said, Bonnie was the one calling the shots.

It went on like that for several months. She actually told me not to go home and jerk off. I guess it was obvious that that was how I was used to getting my orgasms, especially after she saw my unimpressively small penis. Once every two weeks, she would give me a hurried hand job in the bathroom, in front of the sink, and then make me wash my cum down the drain. But I was so horny all the time from being around her and seeing her in bed, that I lost my perspective and was grateful for what little reward I got for all the climaxes I gave her.

Bonnie liked to go out to cheap bars near her apartment. She told me she had gone to them a lot before she met me and was comfortable there. I pointed out that I made a good salary at the office where I worked, and we could go someplace nicer, but she didn't want to hear that. So we continued to visit the three of four same places she preferred, where she knew all the bartenders and -- unhappily for me -- plenty of big, tough-acting guys. I'm pretty short and slender, quiet and meek, so I was intimidated easily. Bonnie didn't help the situation by wearing revealing tops that showed off her deep cleavage, and tight jeans that had every male eyeing her broad round ass.

As I said, the sexual situation, one-sided though it was, kept me with her. In fact, I got deeper and deeper into needing Bonnie. She noticed that and teased me about it, making me remove her panties and then bury my face in them, sniffing the crotch and even the seat. The idea of doing that was humiliating but the reality was addicting. I'm afraid I developed something of a fetish for her lingerie, also including the pantyhose she wore when she had on one of her short skirts. She even got me hooked on her slutty shoes and high heeled boots. The end result of all that was that I wanted only to be near her, even if it meant going out and watching her get hit on by rough men, returning to her place to get her off with my mouth on her unwashed snatch, and then having to sleep naked next to her, so horny that I actually begged for her permission to sleep with my face pressed to her fat ass. I was hopelessly under her spell.

She kept me that way for a few months before announcing that we were getting married. I was stunned, happy but scared. When I said 'yes' I wasn't sure what I was getting myself into. At least I would be able to have regular sex with her once we were wed, I told myself over and over. It was a modest wedding. She had a bunch of the guys she knew there, along with many of the girls from the bars, who were all kind of trampy and all full-figured. There was a reception in the back room of one of the bars and I was unhappy at the way my new bride danced close with every one of the men. She made sure I did the same with all the women, who made a point to rub up against me and to make sure my hands were on their wide hips. It had been over two weeks since Bonnie had allowed me one of her quickie hand jobs, so by the end of the evening I was half out of my mind with sexual frustration.

We got back to her place, where we were living by then, and she had me strip. My little dick was standing up when I got into bed with her. She had removed her dress but then put on a short nightie. Her used panties were lying on the bed and she made me kneel on the mattress and rub my face in them, getting me even more aroused with her scent, the way she had conditioned me to. Then she had me kiss her between the legs. Not lick and suck her, but plant long tender kisses on her protruding labia, and even mutter tender words to her sex. It was demeaning but, at the same time, after how addicted I had become to her body, one more addition to all the excitements already driving my lust.

Then she spread her legs and had me get into the missionary position. Bonnie toyed with my nipples, something she had never done before, and it drove me to distraction. That's when she told me to put just the tip of my dick against her pussy and rub it against her. That stimulated me more than I could have imagined. Along with the way she teased my nipples it was costing me the last of my self-control. I tried to tell her I was going to pop but she shushed me, saying that she had been with dozens of guys and none of them were that easy to finish. She even mentioned that she's been with most of the guys she had danced so close to at the reception. I was shocked that she had invited her past lovers and couldn't help visualizing her under their well-muslced, heavily tattooed bodies, probably in that same bed. I was seeing that awful image in my mind and trying to restrain my need to cum when she wet her fingertips and applied them once more to my very sensitized nipples.

It was too much. With my dick barely making contact with her I shot my load. I was utterly shamed and Bonnie didn't try to hide her disappointment. There was a sticky mess on the outside of her pussy, so I was stunned when she told me to get my face down there. I offered to go and get a warm, wet washrag but she said that if she was going to get any pleasure on her wedding night, it had to be right then, before she got out of the mood. Swallowing what remained of my pride I did as I was told. With my hands on her hips, even sneaking down to press into the softness of her plush bottom, I tried not to think about the fact that I was being made to eat my own sperm while giving my new wife the only kind of satisfaction I could after having just finished. Bonnie kept me down there while she enjoyed a trio of loud orgasms. When she was at last done she rolled onto her side and said I could put my face against her ass, the way I liked to do. I couldn't deny that I had come to love being in that position so, with the taste of cum on my tongue, that's how I slept.

In the morning she had me give her a 'wake-up kiss' between her hefty buttocks. It was unpleasant because she was sweaty and smelly in there, but when she turned over and put her pudgy fingers on my crotch, I had a raging hard-on. Bonnie declared that, since I obviously liked everything that had happened the night before and what she had just made me do, she would be kind and see that I got as much more of the same as I could stand. Then she teased my nipples some more, got me to promise that I would follow her instructions exactly when it came to married sex, and finally let me go and pour her a cup of orange juice. In the kitchen I stood there, still naked, the strong flavors of her pussy and ass in my mouth and on my lips, realizing how tightly I was trapped. I had to make an effort to keep from crying. I was married and it didn't look like I was going to get the real sex I so desperatly longed for. Maybe, I told myself, after a little while, it would all work itself out. Maybe.

Instead, we resumed going to the bars. Bonnie dressed even more boldly and started to openly flirt with the men who came up and talked to her. She even had me buy drinks for them. And then, one night, my worst fear was realized. After a whispered conversation with one man, my wife of less than a month announced that she was going back to the guy's place, 'just to check out his martial arts equipment'. He was a fighting instructor, he said, and could disable a man, send him to the hospital even, with one move. He made a grab toward my balls and I fell off my barstood. As I lay there trembling, Bonnie stood over me, sneering down with absolutely no respect for the loser I was. I waited there on the filthy floor and stared up at her, entranced by her sexy body that I wasn't even allowed to possess. She told me to get up, go home and get naked, that we would 'have some fun' when she got home.

I returned to the perpetually messy apartment. Without considering how bizarre the situation was, I got out of my clothes as my wife had told me to do. Naked, I tried to clean up some of the mess, a job I spent much of my time doing. Several hours later, after midnight, she returned. Bonnie's top was crooked and her hair was mussed. Her lipstick had gotten smeared and that made her appear whorish. I became so upset that, without thinking clearly, I spoke out of turn.

"Y... you went to bed with that guy, didn't you?" I blurted out. Standing there naked, it was difficult to put any conviction behind my words.

My wife smirked at me. "Don't be silly, lover. Why would I do that? When I've got you here? You and your talented mouth. In fact, I'll prove to you that I didn't cheat. If I had just gotten screwed by that guy, would I make you go down on me? If I had just had his monster cock jammed up inside me and he had dumped his huge load -- two of them, actually -- would I make you put your mouth on my cunt and lick and suck it? Of course I wouldn't. I'd never go out and get slammed by some guy I used to sleep with and then make my loving hubby eat his gunk out of my box. I mean, that would be disgusting, wouldn't it?" When I could only stand there and stare, she repeated, with added force, "Wouldn't it?"

I nodded weakly. "Yes, Bonnie, it would."

She gave a toss of her head and said, "So let's go to bed. You can use your mouth on me as much as you want, because I don't cheat. You can be my cunt licker, like always, and I'll try to remember to let you touch my pussy with your minuscule dick or give you your usual hand job sometime soon. And hey, you're already dressed for your job."

She laughed at me and strutted off the the bedroom. I followed without complaint, unable to take my hungry eyes off her wide rolling bottom, wanted it more than ever at that moment, despite all of my dire suspicions. She made me kneel and take off her jeans, then her damp panties. Bonnie flopped back on our bed and threw her heavy legs apart lewdly. I crawled up between them and pressed my lips to her open, wet sex. As I lapped and suctioned and swallowed I tried to convince myself that she hadn't had sex, that I wasn't cleaning up that bruiser's paste. By the time I was done, quite a while later, I had somehow made myself believe that was true. Maybe I was in some form of extreme denial but that's what I made myself believe.

After she was thoroughly satisfied, Bonnie rolled onto her tummy, the bottom I desired so irrationally on display.

She told me, as if reading my thoughts, "I know how much you loooove my ass, husband dearest. So, just to show you I'm not mad at you for your stupid suspicions, I'm going to let you kiss it the way you always like to. And, because I'm in a really good mood tonight -- for some reason -- I'm going to let you cram your face waaaay down in there and kiss my asshole. You can give it deep, DEEP kisses, until I tell you to stop. Get busy -- dear."

I knelt between her full thighs and bent my head to the task, got my face wedged firmly between the hills of her ass, and began kissing her pucker. Despite myself, I grew yearningly aroused. When my tongue went into her tight passage I nearly came. What had she done to me? After I had been performing the degrading act for about ten minutes and it was obvious I wasn't going to rebel, that in fact I wasn't able to, and even that I needed to do it as much as I needed to be my bride's body slave in so many other ways, she spoke.

"From now on," she began, "anytime I want to go home with a guy, just for a drink or to talk, that's what I'm going to do. You'll come back here, get out of your clothes, and do a little housework. I'll come back later, and you'll do for me what you did tonight. You'll eat my cunt everytime I come back from a -- visit -- to prove to you that I don't cheat. You won't be eating some guy's spunk, just like you weren't doing that tonight. And if you do a good job of being my pussy lick-up boy, I'll let you have your special fun and screw my ass -- with your tongue. That's the way it's going to be from now on, loverboy. Did you get all that? Don't stop eating my ass, just nod. That's right.

She wriggled her gigantic rump against my features and giggled. Then she went on, "And one other thing. A wife shouldn't have to give her husband hand jobs. So, starting now, you'll have to jerk yourself off. It'll only be when I say so, and always with me watching. I don't want to be mean, so I'll think up ways to make it fun for you, you little pervert, like letting you suck on the skid marks in the seat of my dirty panties while you whack yourself. Mmmmm, won't that be delightful for a kinky little freak like you? WON'T IT?"

I nodded again from the depths of her ass. Bonnie chortled at my complete submission. She gave my head a squeeze with her ass cheeks and then told me to stop. I obediently got alongside her, my shrimpy dick rigid and my balls aching, and waited. She decided to have me sleep with my face as her foot warmer, so I had to turn around and get my nose and mouth against her unclean soles and heels. Still I didn't lose my erection. She had exactly how she wanted me.

In the months since then, that's been my new life. She says that, if I get to touch her pussy with the tip of my dick anymore, it'll only be on my birthday and our anniversary. I'm a total body slave to my overweight, demanding wife. We go out to those same bars and she always ends up with some brute of a guy. They go to his place to 'talk' and I return home to strip and do my chores, which there are no end of. Then Bonnie comes home and we play out what I've come to understand is her favorite scene. She parts her legs and I have to eat her cunt, never daring to even suggest that she has just been in some man's bed and that she's full of his recently spurted, always plentiful, goop. As I'm licking and swallowing, my erection never softens, especially because lately she hasn't let me wank myself more than once every three weeks or so, and always while doing something that turns me off and that also reinforces my lowly status in our marriage, like having to scrape dead skin off the backs of her heels with my teeth and consume it to earn the privilege of squirting into my free hand and then lapping up my own sperm.

Sometimes, afterwards, Bonnie will make me stand there while she quizzes me.

"Why do I treat you this way?" she might ask.

"Because I'm a complete perv and I want it. I deserve it."

"That's right. And why don't I let you cum any more often than every three weeks?"

"Because after I empty my little balls I get selfish and don't do as good a job of eating your cunt... and your ass."

"Good boy. Another right answer. And why do you always have to go down on me after I come home from going to a real man's apartment for a few hours?"

"Because you would never make me put my mouth on your pussy if you had just had sex with him, and you don't want me to ever think you'd do that, so I have to eat you out after every -- time -- because it proves that you haven't cheated on me. And I know that MY WIFE DOESN'T CHEAT."