---

For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

This is a revised version of the story that I published on Smashword starting back in 2014. It is rewritten with much-added material. However, I did have to age up some of the characters so no one is underage in this version.

---

---

Click here for Side-Story: Waxing Her Bare.

---

---

Thursday, June 6th, 2013 – Ashley Shelley – South Hill, WA

I couldn’t believe this was happening. I was standing in the electronic section of the South Hill Buy Best where I just watched a man have sex. Now the man, Mark, stood naked before the crowd, his cock hard and wet with a woman named Erin’s pussy. Behind Mark, Erin was bent over the Nerd Squad desk while her messy pussy was fucked hard by her cuckolded husband.

Instead of being horrified that such blatant, public sex was happening in a store, I was turned on. I enjoyed watching it.

Mark’s words, spoken over the loudspeaker, echoed through my mind: “Attention Buy Best shoppers, I want everyone to believe that it’s okay for people to have sex in the Buy Best. You will not try to interfere with anyone having sex in front of you. And you will not be offended. Watching someone having sex is going to arouse you. So, if anyone is interested, I’m going to be fucking Jessie in the computer section and you can come and watch. Otherwise, continue shopping and enjoy your morning. Thank you.”

Those words pulled me back here. I couldn’t resist them. I watched Mark fuck first Jessie and then Erin, growing more and more aroused. I was a lesbian. I should be disgusted by watching a man fuck an innocent girl like Jessie. She didn’t seem more than eighteen, but the way she moaned as Mark pounded her…

I squeezed my thighs together.

“What should we do now?” Mark asked the crowd I stood in with a grin, his blue eyes washing over us. He seemed so boyish as he grinned. His words reached through me. I wanted to obey them.

“You two blondes, the Middle-Eastern girl, and you with the big tits, come forward!” Mark barked, pointing us out.

I was one of the blondes. I obeyed with the other three women, my nipples aching. My eyes glanced down at his cock. It…aroused me. Why?

Was my sexuality changing? I gripped my hand, brushing my wedding ring and trying to concentrate on my wife Kristi.

“Names?” Mark asked.

“Marcy,” purred the busty girl with black hair.

“I’m Fatima,” the dusky, Middle-Eastern cutie said, her eyes lowered and her cheeks growing dark with her blush.

“I’m Veronica,” the bleached-blonde woman answered as she bounced on the balls of her feet.

Mark’s eyes fell on me.

“I’m Ashley,” I swallowed, my eyes flicking down at that hard cock. What would it be like to be fucked by a dick?

“Ladies,” I ordered them. “Pick a partner and start fucking. If they choose you, do what they want.”

I should have picked a woman, but my pussy ached to know a cock. I had been…awakened. Jessie and Erin had both cum so hard while they were being fucked. Their passion echoed through my mind. I had to obey Mark and choose someone.

I turned around. I saw a middle-aged man. He seemed harmless. Mark’s words compelled me to say, “Let’s fuck.”

I ripped my jeans and panties down, discarding them on the floor as the man groaned. His slacks came down revealing a cock smaller than Mark’s. He came at me, no foreplay, just eager to ram his filthy cock into my pussy.

My wet, dripping, lesbian pussy.

Instinctively, I threw my leg over his arm as he came at me. He held me, pulling me against him as his cock slammed into my pussy. My eyes widened. His cock felt…nice inside of me, better than a dildo. Warm and alive, slamming into my depths as we fucked standing up.

I moaned in delight. I shouldn’t like this. I was a lesbian, and yet…

I liked being fucked by a cock.

Then Mark came up behind me and shoved his dick into my asshole. I was sandwiched between the two men. I gasped again, the pleasure rushing through my body. I loved it. Mark’s words echoed in my soul, compelling me to keep wiggling my hips.

“Oh, crap!” the guy moaned, slamming his dick deep into my pussy. “Christ, her cunt’s tight. I’m in heaven! Crap!”

“Oh, fuck yeah!” I gasped as I savored their dicks. Something hot erupted into me. A man was cumming inside of me already. “So this is what a real cock feels like! Oh, it’s so hot! Oh, yes, your cum is shooting into my pussy!”

* * *

Kristi Shelley – Tacoma, WA

“Hey, Kristi,” Adam said, peering over the top of his cubicle. “There’s something wild going on in South Hill.”

I glanced up at Adam. He had piercing blue eyes, the kind that made every woman in the office melt whenever he looked at them. Well, every woman but me. I much preferred melting, blue eyes on a woman—like my wife, Ashley. She had these beautiful, gray-blue eyes that I could just lose myself in for hours.

“What?” I asked, curious. I was always up for juicy office gossip.

I liked Adam. He didn’t get the hungry look in his eyes like most guys did when they found out I was a lesbian and had a pin-up model for a wife. Since I started working at DaVita’s Tacoma office last fall, I had become fast friends with Adam. It turned out we had a lot in common—the Seahawks, enjoying a beer after work, and staring at a pretty woman’s ass and tits.

We were both married, but there was no harm in looking, right?

“Some sort of gas attack,” Adam answered. “At the Buy Best in South Hill. It sounds like terrorism.”

I frowned as a thought nagged at the back of my mind. Why was that—

My eyes widened in sudden fear. As I headed out the door this morning, Ashley vaguely mentioned that she needed to go to Buy Best to pick up…something. Panic seized my heart. Was she there right now?

I reached for my phone; I had to call her and make sure she was okay. I rustled through my purse, knocking around tampons, a compact, keys, my wallet, lipstick tubes, single-use moist towelettes, and other random things. I found my phone and pulled it out. My fingers trembled as I manipulated through the menus and hit call.

The phone rang and rang and rang. “Pick up,” I muttered, my heart in the throat. “Please, please.”

“You’ve reached Ashley’s phone,” the recorded message of her voice mail exclaimed, “leave a message and maybe I’ll get right back to you.”

“Call me right away,” I all but shouted at her voice mail.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Adam consoled. He walked around the cubical and sat on the edge of my desk. “Okay.”

“I…yeah, she probably just was driving, or something,” I lied to myself. Ashley always answered her phone, even when driving. It drove me nuts when she did it.

Adam squeezed my shoulder then groaned, “Fuck, here comes Gretchen.”

Adam ducked out of my cubicle before our boss, the uptight Gretchen Dicks, could yell at him. She was in her fifties and as skinny as a dry stick, like all the fluid had been sucked out of her. Her hair was pulled back into a bun so tight her face was permanently stuck in a scowl. She was a vulture always hovering at the edges, waiting to swoop in and devour a dying animal.

“Ms. Shelley, this is work, not a coffee social,” she said snottily, looking down at me over her long nose. “Stop flirting with Mr. Upton and do your work. I need those Medicare invoices.”

“I wasn’t flirting, Mrs. Dicks,” I answered. Gretchen was a big stickler on last names. I pitied the poor man married to this harridan. “I’m gay, remember. And married. So, if you wouldn’t mind, its Mrs. Shelley.”

“By noon, Ms. Shelley,” she continued, ignoring my words. “Your six month review is coming up.”

I gritted my teeth and nodded my head. I turned back to my computer, but I couldn’t make any sense of the Medicare accounts. My mind was too preoccupied with the possible fate of my wife. Gas attack. What did that mean? Like sarin gas? Are people dying in South Hill? I called Ashley a second time.

Nothing.

What was going on? Was Ashley okay? I wanted to scream and cry and run around the office. Why was I even sitting here? I couldn’t sit here.

I stood up and walked to the bathroom, entered the farthest stall, and sat on the toilet. The tears came, running down my face as I hugged myself. My body shook. I pulled up my knees and hugged them to my chest.

“Ashley’s fine,” I kept telling myself. “Ashley’s fine. Her phone must have died and she hasn’t realized it. Ashley’s fine.”

I grabbed my phone and googled the gas attack. News articles already were appearing. I skimmed them. So far, there weren’t any reported casualties. As I read the stories, I frowned. The gas, according to the reports, only made people act inappropriately.

Inappropriately? What did that mean?

Feeling a little more relieved—at least Ashley wasn’t dead—I left the stall and splashed water on my face. I dried off with a paper towel, then checked my makeup. I touched up my lipstick and mascara. Even with make-up, I was plain with dull, brown eyes set in a round face. My lips were small, my nose a little too big, and my brown hair fell lankly about my face.

Flat, uninteresting brown.

I was the opposite of my wife in every way. She was tall and blonde; her face beautiful, with strong cheekbones that gave her a fierce aspect. “You’re a gorgeous Valkyrie,” I would joke with her.

And her breasts. They were 36 DD with large nipples that I loved to bury my face in. I had little B cups. They were practically A’s. I had no hips and a flat butt, while my Ashley had an hourglass figure and a gorgeous, heart-shaped rear.

I definitely liked curves on my women, and Ashley had them in spades.

My phone rang and I jumped. I scrabbled to pull it out of my purse. I couldn’t find it. My purse was a mess. Finally, I uncovered my phone and saw with relief that it was Ashley calling.

“Oh, thank God,” I gasped into the phone.

“Hey, babe,” Ashley answered, sounding a little tired. “I…um…am going to the hospital.”

“Oh, no, is it serious?”

“Umm…well, it’s hard to explain. I was at Buy Best, and, um…”

“I heard there was a gas attack,” I said quickly.

“Yeah, that’s what they think happened. Umm, it was weird. The gas made us do things…”

“What?” I asked.

“Umm, it’s hard to explain. Just come to the hospital, okay? It’s Good Sam.”

“I’m on my way, Ashley.”

I was surprise my boss didn’t give me a hard time when I told her what was happening. It wouldn’t have mattered either way.

I sped the entire way to the hospital, not caring if I received a ticket. I had to see my wife. I pulled in front of the hospital and handed my car over to the valet. I rushed inside, and the valet had to call me back to give me my ticket.

I was breathless when I burst into her exam room.

Ashley sat in stirrups like she was about to get a gynecological exam while a nurse set between her legs. I rushed to her and gave her a hug. I was crying by the time Ashley told me what happened. My wife had been gang-raped. Some maniac made an entire store full of people fuck each other, and guy after guy took advantage of my wife.

“I’m fine,” Ashley protested after the exam. “It was just sex. Don’t worry. The gas made it all seem fine.”

“It’s not fine,” I hissed. “This Mark fellow needs to be caught.”

Ashley shrugged. She was so…calm about it. Didn’t it phase her? She was a gold star, a lesbian that had never been with a man before. Now she had been forced to fuck guy after guy. It was so…filthy. I just wanted to hug her forever.

“Just take me home, Kristi.”

* * *

Monday, June 10th, 2013 – Kristi Shelley – Tacoma, WA

My office phone rang. I picked it up. “Kristy Shelley, how may I help you?”

“Kristi, the sink broke,” Ashley complained in that whiny way she always did when something went wrong.

It was Monday morning, my first day back to work since the “Buy Best Incident,” as the media dubbed it. I had taken Friday off to spend time with my wife. Ashley said she was fine, but she wasn’t the same. She pretended she was. We had made love a few times—my wife’s sex drive hadn’t diminished in the slightest, she was always begging me for sex. But it was different now. Ashley would give me amazing orgasms, as usual, but when I would return the favor, she just couldn’t climax.

“I just had to be patient,” I told myself over and over after giving up and leaving her frustrated. “She went through an ordeal.”

I encouraged her to go see a therapist yesterday after we made love and I failed to make her cum again. She was really disappointed. I could tell she was itching to explode.

“I’m fine, everything’s okay, I don’t need to see a therapist,” she insisted.

So, I decided to be the best, most supportive wife ever. I would get her through this.

“There’s water everywhere,” Ashley whined, snapping me out of my reverie.

“I’m at work,” I said. Besides, I had no idea how to fix a sink. “Why don’t you ask Rick if he can fix it?”

Rick was our next door neighbor, and he always helped out when things went wrong in our house. I had two left thumbs and Ashley was just hopeless with tools. Ashley was a college student on summer break. She was looking for a part-time job, but for now she had nothing to do but lounge around the house.

“I got to go, Gretchen is walking this way. She’s on the war path again.”

“Okay, love you, Kristi.”

“Love you,” I said and quickly hung up before Gretchen noticed I had a personal call.

When I got home from work, the rhythmic thud of the washer machine welcomed me. I frowned at the sudsy water sloshed against the glass door. Why was Ashley doing laundry today? I padded through the house, looking around for her.

“Ashley?” I asked, passing through the kitchen and into the living room.

“Back here,” she called from down the hallway that led to our bedroom.

I walked down the hallway and found Ashley making our bed. That was weird. I made the bed this morning before I went to work. Ashley wore a bathrobe, her blonde hair wet like she just got out of the shower.

“Hey, babe,” I greeted.

“Oh, hi, Kristi,” Ashley muttered, her cheeks red the way they always were when she was hiding something.

“What?” I asked, frowning. “And why are the pink sheets on the bed?”

“I…uh…spilled red wine on the sheets,” she answered. “Sorry, I’m washing them now. I don’t think there will be a stain.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” I said, shaking my head. I didn’t like for drinks or food in our bed—something we had fought about early on—but I made allowance considering what happened. I walked over and kissed her.

Ashley pulled away and quickly went back to making the bed.

I suppressed a sigh. She was not okay. “So, did Rick come over?”

“Yeah,” Ashley answered breathlessly, a smile playing on her lips. “He…um…he took care of the…eh…problem.”

“Oh, good. He’s a helpful guy. Good with his hands.”

Ashley smiled fondly. “You have no idea, Kristi. And he’s amazing with his tool!”

It was nice to see her smiling again, even if she was acting a little weird.

That night, Ashley was more relaxed then she had been since the incident, almost back to her normal self which I was happy to see. I was glad to see she found a release for her tension. In bed, Ashley went down on me and licked me to a screaming orgasm.

“Damn,” I panted, leaning back on the pillows. “I need to return the favor. That was amazing.”

“It’s okay,” she yawned, lying down beside me. “I’m too tired to cum.”

After that amazing cum, I was tired as well, so I snuggled up to my wife and fell asleep.

The next day, when I got home, Ashley wore her bathrobe again looking like she just took a shower. I found the blue sheets back on the bed and the pink sheets in the laundry. Neither of us liked the pink sheets.

They were a gift from my mother who had weird ideas about what lesbians liked.

“I have good news,” Ashley said with excitement. “I got my old bartending job back at the Lady Luck.”

I blinked in surprise. “I thought you hated working there. You said all the guys just hit on you.”

Ashley shrugged, “It wasn’t that bad, and I made good money. Maybe we can afford to get that jacuzzi.” There was a twinkle in my wife’s eyes. She must be really excited about that jacuzzi to go back to work at the Lady Luck.

“Okay, but don’t let those men paw you,” I joked, reaching out to grab my wife’s butt beneath her bathrobe.

“Oh, yeah,” Ashley answered, shifting away from my playful hands. “I wouldn’t want to be pawed by a bunch of guys.”

I frowned, her eyes grew distant, like she was thinking about something while a flush grew on her cheeks.

“What?” I asked her.

Ashley frowned at me in confusion.

“You had this weird look in your eyes,” I told her.

She smiled, “Just imagining how much fun I could have in a jacuzzi.”

“When do you start?”

“Next week. They want me to work Fridays and Saturdays, and maybe pull a shift in the middle of the week.”

When I got home from work on Wednesday, I found my wife sleeping naked in our rumpled bed.

“You okay?” I asked, smelling the lingering traces of hot pussy. Had she been masturbating?

“What?” she yawned, and then her eyes opened in shock. “Oh, you’re home early?”

“No, you fell asleep, silly” I said with a shake of my head.

She pulled the sheets over her body, seemingly embarrassed at being caught sleeping naked. I pulled off my work blouse and skirt and pulled on some more comfortable clothes. She stared at me as I changed, and I gave her a smile.

“I’m going to start dinner,” I told her.

“Oh, good,” she sighed in relief.

I shook my head, wondering at her odd behavior as I headed for the kitchen. I just had to be patient with her. It hasn’t even been a week since…the incident. The shower hissed on—she sure showered a lot these days. Maybe she felt dirty because of what happened to her.

If even one man had…touched me like that, I would shower all the time. I really needed to convince her to see a therapist.

Ashley walked by, carrying a bundle as I put the chicken in the oven. From the small laundry area between the garage and the kitchen came the beeps as she started up the rhythmic swish of the washer machine.

Ashely came out with a skip to her step, positively glowing.

“You’re in a good mood,” I smiled.

“Yeah,” she grinned. “Mmm, I’m starving.”

“Right, because lying around the house all day really makes you hungry,” I joked.

“You have no idea,” Ashley laughed.

“What are you washing?”

“Oh, the sheets,” she sighed. “I spilled more wine on them. Sorry.”

“You’re turning into quite the klutz,” I giggled, shaking my head at her. “You’re going to wear out our washer at this rate.”

After dinner, Ashley positively attacked me. She pushed me down on our bed, ripped my panties off, and just went to town on my pussy. Her tongue was everywhere, and she used three fingers inside my cunt. She managed to give me multiple orgasms, and when she finished, I was looking forward to returning the favor.

“I’m fine,” Ashley shrugged, rolling over to go to bed.

“Oh, okay,” I sighed in disappointment. I didn’t like being a pillow queen, a lesbian that only received oral sex. I loved to give it, too.

I just needed to be patient with her.

* * *

Thursday, June 13th, 2013 – Kristi Shelley

I hummed as I pulled out of the grocery store parking lot.

It had been a week since the incident at the Buy Best. They still hadn’t caught that Mark Glassner. Just this morning, it came out that he was innocent. Some FBI Agent was blathering on the news about it.

Which was BS.

Ashley recognized Mark every time he appeared on the TV, usually just security footage of him while Jessica St. Pierre—the sexy reporter I swear my wife and I both had a crush on—interviewed another bimbo that raved about how wonderful being gassed and raped by Mark Glassner was.

And now they claimed he was innocent. Jessica St. Pierre, my crush, was Mark’s biggest cheerleader.

I tried to swallow my anger and focus on what was important. I decided to take off work early to cook Ashley a delicious, candlelight dinner. At the store, I purchased her favorite—lobster tails—and a nice bottle of wine to go with it.

After dinner, we could drink the wine and cuddle on the couch.

I walked into the house from the garage. The door was unlocked. I stepped into the kitchen and put the lobster tails into the refrigerator and left the bottle of wine on the counter.

“Ashley?” I called as I moved out of the kitchen. She should be home. Her car was in the driveway.

I bet she was in our bed drinking wine. It was worrying that she was drinking to cope, and not because she had to wash the sheets every day. Was she turning into an alcoholic? That wouldn’t be good.

I stepped into the living room, about to open my mouth again, when I heard a noise coming from the back of the house. I frowned, it almost sounded like a woman moaning. Was she watching TV in our bedroom?

Moving through the living room to the hallway that led to our bedroom, I heard another moan.

A passionate moan.

It was clearly the moan of a woman panting in pleasure. Fear clutched at my heart as I stared down the hallway. Our bedroom door was open. Was Ashley cheating on me? I was frozen in place, my stomach roiling in terror.

“Oh, fuck!” a man’s voice growled.

I relaxed; she must be watching porn. We had a small collection of adult DVDs, and some had guys in them. Ashley had a fondness for cuckold porn. She got off on the thought of some wimpy husband letting his wife fuck whomever she wanted, even if Ashley couldn’t actually stand to see the actual guy fucking the wife.

I think she pretended she was the one fucking the wife and cuckolding the husband.

Feeling naughty, I decided to catch her in the act. Maybe I could help her finish.

I pushed off my shoes and walked quietly down the hallway. The slap of flesh and the creaking of a mattress grew louder; the porno was in the middle of the action. Closer and closer I drew to the bedroom door. The hallway light was off, and I was hidden in the dark shadows. I knew from experience that Ashley wouldn’t be able to see me until I reached the door.

“Fuck, your cunt is tight!” the man moaned.

The woman giggled. “Mmm, your cock is so fucking hard, Rick!”

I froze. That was Ashley’s voice.

No, it just sounded like her voice. And it was just a coincidence that the guy in the porno was named Rick. It was a common name. Ashley was gay. She wouldn’t be fucking our neighbor. If I took a few more steps, I would see my wife masturbating with one of our many sex toys.

My body trembled. I forced myself to take a step. I could see into the room, but not the bed. Another step.

My heart broke.

There was my wife, my beautiful Ashley, naked and riding atop a man. Atop Rick. Her large breasts bounced as she slid up and down his cock. Rick’s hand gripped her plump ass as his hard cock disappeared into my wife’s pussy. Ashley’s head threw back, her blonde hair flying wildly about as she moaned.

“Why, Ashley?” I whispered to myself, tears burning my eyes.

And it all made sense. Why Ashley was changing the sheets, taking showers, acting so weird around me. My wife was having an affair. With a man. I wanted to burst in and shout at her, to explode with righteous anger. I wanted to make her feel as terrible as I felt at her heart-wrenching betrayal.

I tried to move forward, but I was rooted to the spot, my eyes glued to the sight of the cock disappearing into my wife’s cunt.

I licked my lips.

Ashley was enjoying the cock so much; that hurt the most. Not only was she cheating on me, but it was with a man. I felt an itch between my legs, and without realizing what I was doing, I slipped my hand down into my slacks, into my panties, and found my pussy.

I was wet.

I rubbed my pussy and rolled my hard clit between my fingers as I watched my wife writhe atop Rick. She bounced faster and faster, her heavy tits rising and slapping against her chest. He grunted, savoring my wife’s pussy.

“Such a tight cunt,” he growled.

“Yes, you love it,” hissed Ashley. “You love my tight cunt on your thick cock. Oh, fuck. So good. You’re going to make me cum.”

I slipped two fingers up inside me. I had never felt so wet in my life. My breath quickened as I masturbated furiously. The heel of my hand ground on my clit as my hot pussy clenched on my plunging fingers. I bit my lip, stifling my moan.

Why was I so turned on? This was so wrong.

My fingers churned through my pussy. My other hand squeezed my tit through my blouse, my eyes locked on the man’s cock violating my lesbian wife’s pussy. The wet, obscene sound of her cunt sliding up and down his shaft filled my mind.

She was dripping wet. She loved it.

Her moans echoed through the house. The moaning, keening whine entered her voice. She was growing closer to her orgasm. My fingers pumped faster, matching the intensity of her hips rising and dropping on Rick’s cock.

My toes curled into the carpet as I let out a groaning moan. I rubbed harder at my clit. My sensitive nub shot pleasure to my core. My orgasm built. I wanted to add my moaning voice to my wife’s. I wanted to explode with bliss.

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming!” Ashley panted, slamming down on Rick’s cock while her tits heaved. “Oh, god!”

“Fucking slut!” Rick groaned. “Oh, fuck, your cunt is rippling on me! You fucking whore! I’m gonna cum in your dyke cunt!”

“Yes, yes!” she moaned. “Cum in my pussy!”

My orgasm burst through me as Rick flooded my wife with his cum. I shuddered, clamping my teeth tight as I hissed out my pleasure. I swayed and stumbled, catching myself with an outstretched arm on the wall as the powerful bliss exploded through me.

My vision darkened and stars danced.

My pussy spasmed on my fingers. Juices flooded my panties.

I sucked in my breath through my clenched teeth. That was one of the most amazing cums I ever had in my life. Shame and humiliation flooded my veins, pumping ice through my blood and killing my excitement.

Why had I masturbated? Why did the sight of my cheating wife fucking a man turn me on so much? What was wrong with me?

“Hmm, I needed that,” Ashley purred. “But you should get going before Kristi gets home.”

“Yeah. Same time tomorrow?”

“Sure, stud,” Ashley giggled.

I wanted to cry. I pulled my fingers out of my pussy as the couple stirred. Sucking my fingers clean of my juices, I retreated down the hallway. Clothes rustled as Rick dressed. I ducked into the dining room and waited for him to leave, my heart pounding in my chest. I continued licking my tart juices off my fingers.

Images of Ashley atop Rick kept flashing through my mind, and my rebellious pussy grew wet again.

What was wrong with me?

The shower started up and the front door slammed as Rick left.

I had to confront my wife. I didn’t care what happened to her last week at the Buy Best. Being gangbanged didn’t give her the right to cheat on me. To hurt me.

I marched quickly through the house, letting my anger build. I walked into the bedroom, the bed still mussed from her adultery, a large wet-spot staining the sheets. I threw open the bathroom door, the doorknob banging into the wall

“Kristi,” Ashley squeaked and jumped in the shower, her naked body moving, distorted into a pink blob by the foggy glass of the door. “You’re home early.”

Guilt and fear thickened her voice.

My anger burned through me. That was the same guilt I’ve been sensing from her all week. How could I be so stupid? All the signs of her adultery were everywhere. I grabbed the sliding door to the shower and threw it open. Steam poured out.

Ashley stood rigid, her blue eyes wide. Water ran down her lush body, a loofah held in one hand, frozen at her groin.

My cheating, slutty wife was trying to clean up her betrayal.

“Kristi?” Ashley asked again. “What’s wrong?” She tried to sound casual.

I stepped into the shower, dropped to my knees.

What was I doing? Why wasn’t I yelling at her?

My work clothes were soaked by the warm water. I didn’t care. I pushed the loofah aside and buried my face into her pussy. What am I doing? Why was I eating her pussy? I had gone completely crazy.

I tasted bitter soap, then the tangy, sweet flavor of my wife, and finally something salty.

Rick’s cum.

It tasted delicious in her pussy.

“Stop it!” Ashley protested in fear. “I’m not in the mood, Kristi!”

I ignored Ashley as I devoured the proof of my wife’s adultery. I shoved my tongue up her pussy, searching for every last trace of cum. Her hot flesh rubbed on my mouth as I explored her pussy, drunk on the excitement of eating a man’s cum out of my wife’s cunt.

“What the fuck, Kristi,” Ashley gasped. “I’m not in the mood.”

Ashley’s hands grabbed my head and tried to push me away. I fought against her, keeping my face pressed into her folds. My hands reached around her body and gripped her ass. I moaned as I kept right on eating the delicious, cheating mess I found in her cunt.

I loved it.

“Please stop!” Ashley shouted. “You have to stop” She tried to pry my hands off her ass, but couldn’t get a grip. “Goddamn it stop, Kristi! I’m not in the mood!”

I rubbed my nose against her clit, enjoying the feel of her intimate flesh upon my face as my tongue quested for more and more cum. I knew just where to touch her to drive her wild and a throaty sigh escaped her lips.

“Oh, damn!” my wife moaned as my tongue curled around her clit.

Ashley’s hand on my head relaxed; she stopped trying to push me away. The tension melted out of her body as my tongue circled her clit. Then her hips writhed as she embraced the pleasure, her juices flooding my mouth as her excitement grew.

I looked up at her smiling face through the valley of her heaving breasts.

“Mmm, Kristi,” she moaned. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but goddamn if that doesn’t feel amazing. You need to be this aggressive more often.”

I redoubled my effort. For the first time in a week, I gave my wife pleasure. My anger faded as I kept devouring her cunt. I started to only taste her tangy juices; there was no more cum left. So I concentrated on her clit again, flicking my tongue around the little pearl while I slipped two fingers into her tight pussy.

Her pussy clenched down on my fingers. Ashley shook, her wet breasts jiggling above me. I sucked her clit into my mouth, moaning as I nibbled and licked. My fingers of my left hand clenched on her bubbly ass as I finger-fucked her cunt.

“Yes, yes, eat me Kristi! Oh, yes, your lips feel wonderful! Mmm, keep doing that with your fingers! Oh, you dirty slut! Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, I love it when you play with my clit, Kristi! Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

Ashley’s body convulsed. Her hot flesh smeared across her lips. Her tangy juices flooded my mouth. I drank them down as she shuddered, her orgasm rolling through her. I kept licking and nuzzling while she quivered.

“Damn, Kristi,” she panted as my licking slowed.

I stood up, my clothing soaked and clinging to my body. I hugged her tight and kissed her hard. Her large, wet breasts pressed against me. Her arms hugged me as to her body as her tongue thrust into my mouth.

Finally, she broke the kiss, her hands stroking my face, and I saw love in her eyes. The last of my anger faded. She still loved me.

“I’m the luckiest woman in the world,” Ashley smiled. “Let’s get you out of those clothes and I’ll return the favor.”

As Ashley went down on me, I pictured her writhing atop Rick. The way her breasts bounced heavily as she rode him; his hard cock spearing in and out of her wet cunt. I had promised myself that I would be the best, most supportive wife ever. Maybe this is what she needed to do to get over what happened to her. Maybe I just needed to keep loving and supporting her.

As I came on her mouth, that was what I promised myself.

“I don’t know what got you all fired up, but that was fucking amazing,” Ashley said as we toweled off. She paused, swallowing, then asked, “I tasted fine, right? I didn’t taste funny, or anything.”

“You tasted great, Ashley.”

She relaxed and smiled.

“Tomorrow, don’t take a shower. Let me clean all of Rick’s cum out of you.”

Ashley froze, then gave me a considering look. “And you’re okay with that?”

I bit my lip. “Well, I was angry at first when I saw you riding him. But, it also turned me on. I fingered myself to an orgasm watching.”

A playful smile appeared on my wife’s lips. “It turns you on, huh? And you are just dying to eat more cum out of my pussy?”

“Yeah,” I admitted, feeling embarrassed.

“I found it so fucking hot when you ate out my cream-filled cunt, Kristi,” she smiled. “Hmm, why don’t you help me get ready to go out?”

“Out? Where?” I frowned. “I bought lobster tails for dinner.”

“That can wait,” she said firmly as she strolled to our walk-in closet. “Now, which dress should I wear?” She held a slinky, black dress and a tight, red one. “I like the black, it shows off my cleavage. But the red just screams ‘fuck me.’ What do you think, Ashley?”

“I don’t understand?”

“Ever since I was gangbanged, all I can think about was how great getting fucked by a cock felt!” A look of ecstasy crossed my wife’s face. “I need them, babe. I learned that I love cocks! They are all I could think about. When Rick came over on Monday, I just couldn’t help but invite him into our bed. It was so wonderful to be fucked!”

That stung, but I forced it down; I promised to be loving and supportive. “So, why are you going out?”

“I’m going to go out to find some guy and let him fuck me,” Ashley explained. “I’ve only been holding back so I wouldn’t hurt you.” A smile split her lips. “You can sit here at home and wait, imagining what nasty things are being done to my little pussy. When I get home, you get to clean me up.”

I wanted to object, to tell her to stay home, but my pussy felt so wet. “The red one,” I heard myself say. “You want to get fucked after all.”

Ashley laughed. “That’s my good little cuckold. Or maybe, cuckqueen. Now, why don’t you chose the sluttiest underwear I own.”

I don’t know what came over my wife, but I was so turned on as I pulled out a black thong from her dresser. Then, impulsively, I knelt down and pulled the thong up her smooth legs. I adjusted the thong, making sure it rode through her ass and was tight against her pussy. I wanted her to look her best.

Then I chose her bra, styled her hair, and helped her with her make-up. She looked like a sex goddess when she left the house, her plump rump swaying sexily as she walked out to the car.

She paused before climbing in our car. “Thank you, Kristi, you’re the best wife ever.”

I flushed. Part of me wanted to stop her—she was my wife, and I should be the only one to touch her—but one look at the desire in her eyes shut me up. This is what she needed. And my pussy was wet with excitement thinking about her messy cunt and how delicious it would taste as I cleaned her up.

So I said nothing and watched her drive off.

I went back inside, heated up a microwave dinner, and sat on the couch. As I ate, I imagined what my wife was up to. When I finished eating, I rubbed my cunt, fantasizing about my wife getting fucked in every different way possible. I had promised to be supportive and help her through her experience. No matter how long it took or how many men she had to fuck, I would be eagerly waiting for her.

So I could lick her pussy clean like a good, little cuckqueen.

Click here for Succubus Delight, Chapter 1.

Click here for Tales from the Orgy Chapter 2.

If you enjoyed the story, support me on Patreon!

I have released a part 43 of the revamped Devil’s Pact on Smashwords. Read this post for more information if you’re interested!