Cuckolded at the College Reunion (13 page)

We stared at each other, my heart breaking. She was still his. She’d always been his.

She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Get a plane and go home and wait for me,” she said. “Or stay and watch. But this isn’t over. I’m staying for the rest of the weekend.”

<<<< >>>>

What else does Brad have planned for the weekend?

What else will Kim rediscover about herself?

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<<<< >>>>

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An Extract from

Cuckolded at the College Reunion 2

Kim got up and slowly unhooked her bra. She slipped it off and her ripe breasts swung free, the perfect combination of heavy and firm. Her pink nipples were already hard. She added the bra to the growing pile of clothes on the professor’s desk.

I watched as she bent at the hips, keeping her legs as straight as any stripper, reached back and hooked her thumbs into her panties and slid them down her thighs. It was a practiced move—very practiced. I wondered where she’d learned it. The panties fell around her feet and she stepped out of the wisp of fabric, dropping it atop the pile. And then she stood naked, the sunlight that shone through the cracks in the blind painting stripes of light across her stomach and thighs, making the soft blonde hair between her legs gleam like gold.

The professor crooked his finger at her and she walked around behind his desk. The professor kicked his chair back so that she could sit on his lap…and, I realized, so that I had a better view.

Kim sat gingerly down and I could see her gasp as she felt the very obvious bulge in the professor’s pants. She was still playing the role of the nervous student…although she was so obviously lost in lust that it was getting harder and harder to maintain the act.

The professor put his hands on her waist and turned her so that she was sitting sideways across his legs. He reached up with one hand and cupped a breast and, while he did it, he stared straight at me. He began to rub her nipple in slow circles with his thumb. “Oh, Kim,” he said. “You were always my favorite student.” He put his other hand on her naked back and ran it down her spine until he could cup one of her firm ass cheeks.

I felt hard wood against my back and realized I’d unconsciously backed up against the door. The sight before me was depraved. My full-breasted, blonde-haired wife, naked in the lap of her tutor—her
master—
a man twenty years older than her. His hands running over her body, teasing her to gasping arousal right in front of me. It was so wrong…and yet my cock was rock hard in my pants.

“Let’s see if you’ve changed,” said Roycefield. He roughly shoved his hand between her thighs like a blade, opening her legs just a little. “Same soft skin,” he said, rubbing her there. Kim gasped, closing her eyes. “I never got to see this pretty little pussy while you were at college….” He ran his fingers up and down the soft little triangle of hair Kim kept above her waxed lips. “I bet the men all like that, don’t they, you little whore? They wonder if the carpet matches the drapes and they must be oh-so pleased when it does.”

I saw Kim squirm as he called her a whore. “Bastard,” she whispered, barely loud enough to hear. It sounded just as throaty and full of lust as when she used the word with Brad.

“Oh, I’m a bastard, am I? Let’s see if that’s what you really think.” And he pushed his hand deeper between her thighs. I saw one finger extend. A second later, Kim’s eyes flew open and she gasped again as it pushed inside her.

“Just as I thought,” said Roycefield. “Wet as a morning meadow.” His voice grew low. “You love this, don’t you, you little slut? You love it when a real man takes control.”

Kim swallowed. “I—I—”

The professor smirked and I saw his wrist twist. I imagined his finger, deep inside her, sliding over her slickened walls.

“Ah!” panted Kim. “Y—Yes! I love it, professor,” she said in a rush.

The professor glanced at me. “Come here,” he said.

I walked towards him. I couldn’t understand why I felt so…
powerless.
But disobeying him just didn’t feel like an option.

As I drew closer, I could see every detail. The flush in my wife’s cheeks. Her huge, dilated pupils. The way the professor was squeezing and rubbing at one breast while he probed her with the other. Her nipples were harder than I’d ever seen them, almost trembling, begging to be touched.

The professor drew his hand from between her thighs and held it up to my face, his finger extended. I could see how it glistened with my wife’s juices. I immediately took a step back.

“Smell it!” the professor ordered, and I froze. And then, my guts clenching, I stepped forward again and moved my head back towards his hand, until the finger was under my nose. I could smell Kim’s sweet musk, and the scent of it made me even harder…even as the circumstances made the anger glow white-hot inside me.

“That’s the smell of your wife getting ready for another man,” the professor told me. “That’s her juicing up to take a real man’s cock inside her.”

I felt a deep shudder run through my body. It was humiliating…but somehow, the humiliation was adding to the sexual tension.

“Have you been fucking this sorry excuse for a man?” asked the professor. “Have you been opening your legs for him?”

Kim swallowed. “Y—Yes, professor.”

The professor shook his head. “That’s not good enough, Kim. Next you’ll be saying that you’re giving yourself to that thug Brad again. You deserve a more mature man. Someone who can give you guidance and discipline you when you’ve done wrong. Which parts of yourself have you given to your husband? Your wet pussy?”

Kim nodded, her voice tight with lust. “Yes.”

He put his hand on her chin and ran the tip of his thumb along her lips. His nails were manicured. “Your mouth?”

“S—Sometimes,” panted Kim against his thumb.

The professor slid his hand down her neck, over her shoulder and down the length of her back, never breaking contact. I watched until it disappeared from my view, sliding down over her ass. The professor looked carefully into Kim’s eyes. A second later, she jerked and tensed in his lap.

“What about
here?”
asked the professor.

“Ah! N—No. Never there.” She glanced at me. “I’ve never let him take me there.”

The professor smiled. “Good girl. But I still need to remind you how to behave. Stand up.”

Kim stood and I could see her legs trembling.

“Go and stand in front of my desk,” the professor said.

She walked around the desk and faced it, her ass towards me.

“Bend over,” said Roycefield.

Kim’s eyes widened, but she didn’t protest. I heard her breathing speed up as the sexual heat overtook her. She bent at the waist, her legs straight and the perfect peach of her ass rising into the air. She put her hands on the smooth wood of the desk.

“Legs apart,” said Roycefield gruffly.

She slowly stepped her feet apart, spreading them wide. I think she thought he was going to fuck her. Right up until he took out the bamboo cane.

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