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5-STAR POSTS!!     |
31/10/2007
Dear Wimp,
So you are Mary's husband, the loser, the wimp, the
shrimp-dick that I've heard about. Well, I've got good
news and bad news for you, wimp. The good news is that
until last week, Mary had been faithful to you. Faithful
for five years of marriage. That's almost a miracle.
That such a drop dead, knock-down gorgeous babe like Mary
could have remained faithful to a wimp like you for five
minutes is hard to believe. It just shows how religious
she really is. And to think that a girl like that was a
virgin when she got married. By the way, she told me how
with your limp dick, you tried and failed several times
to break her cherry on your honeymoon, and she finally
had to do it for you with her own finger. Even with her
religious devoutness, how could she have remained
faithful to you? Of course, she really didn't know any
better. You couldn't turn her on, so she figured she
just wasn't highly sexed. Oh, brother!
Anyway, the good news for you is that until last week,
your wife had been faithful to you. Until then, you were
the only man who had ever fucked her. Which is to say,
she had never been fucked by a MAN. The bad news, you
can probably guess. Last week, I cuckolded you, wimp.
That's right, I gave your beautiful Mary the kind of
fucking she deserves and couldn't get in a million years
from a wimp like you. Mary's still your wife, but she's
my woman and I'm her man.
Right now, you probably think this is some incredible
hoax. But if it's a hoax, how did I know about you being
unable to deflower your wife? To set your mind at rest,
why don't you take this letter right now to Mary. Ask
her to look at what an incredible prank someone is trying
to play on the two of you by sending you such a letter.
Go ahead and ask her. Then you can read the rest of the
letter in the proper frame of mind.
Okay, Wimp, did you show her the letter? And the minute
she saw it, those beautiful blue eyes of hers dropped to
the floor, and you saw tears rolling down those soft,
soft cheeks, right? And finally she looked up at you
through those eyes sparkling with tears, and in a voice
you could hardly hear, she said, "Yes. Yes. I'm so
sorry, I'm so, so sorry, but every word is true. God
knows, I don't want it to be true, but I just can't help
myself." Am I right? Right. And then you felt your
stomach drop to the floor, right wimp? Oh, how I regret
not being able to see your shit-eating face when Mary
dropped that blow on you just now. But don't feel sorry
for me. I'm getting pleasure just thinking about it, and
thinking about how you are going to feel, reading all the
wonderful details I'm about to give you.
First, a bit about myself. I think that's only fair, so
that now that you've lost your wife to another man, you
can assess your chances of winning her back. Do you
think you can compete with me, wimp? (By the way, when I
say you've lost her, I don't mean you won't be able to
live with her. It's just that as I said above, she'll be
my woman--one of my women, I should say--and I'll be her
man. Her only man! And you'll be shit! At the end of
this letter, I'll lay out the conditions under which
you'll be allowed to go on living with Mary. They aren't
conditions that any real man would consider accepting for
a minute. But obviously, what a real man would do has
nothing to do with what you will do. You're so attached
to Mary, that she's certain you'll agree to anything, no
matter how humiliating.)
To start with, I'm 42 years old. So, perhaps you think
you have the advantage of youth, since you are only 34.
But then, Mary's only 25, so the difference doesn't seem
that great from her perspective. And I'm so much more
fit than you are. You are five feet, five inches, five
inches shorter than Mary. And your five feet, five
inches, are composed of pure flab. Mary showed me a
picture of you in a bathing suit. What a shapeless mess
you are!
I am SIX feet, five inches, a full foot taller than you.
Literally as well as figuratively, Mary looks up to me
and down at you, wimp. At 190 pounds, I'm the same weight
as you. But what a difference! You could look with a
magnifying glass and you wouldn't find a speck of flab on
my body. I have dark hair with just a dash of gray, and
people tell me I have movie star looks. But perhaps you
think I'm exaggerating.. Why don't you go ask Mary to
show you the picture of me in my dress suit. Go ahead,
before you read any further..
Why the crestfallen look, wimp? So I wasn't exaggerating
a bit! In fact, I was being modest, wasn't I? Guess
what, wimp? Throughout this letter you are going to be
thinking I must be exaggerating, but you are going to
find out that every word is the truth. The painful,
stinging truth, wimp.
Well, looks aren't everything. Let's see, Mary told me
you graduated from junior college, with a degree in
bookkeeping. You've got a crummy job as an insurance
actuary, earning $30,000. Your chances for promotion to
any significantly better job any time in your career are
nil.
I went to college at Yale, got a Ph.D. in economics at
the University of Chicago, and a business degree at
Harvard. I finished first in my class by a substantial
margin at each of those places. I then went into venture
capital and hit Silicon Valley just at the right time. I
think I can claim to have been a success. Successful
enough, at any rate, to retire seven years ago at the age
of 35, after I had made my third billion.
Not that I've completely detached myself from the world.
CEO's of Fortune 500 companies and politicians in both
parties are always kissing my ass--sometimes literally--
because they want my help or advice on one thing or
another. And I'm well known in the world of cultural
affairs. Every major arts and cultural organization in
the country has asked me to be on its board, though I've
accepted only a select few of the positions that were
offered. So when she's around me, Mary meets the most
successful, the most glamorous, the most sophisticated
people in the world, and she participates in
conversations that you wouldn't even be able to
comprehend, wimp. Now let's compare. Mary tells me your
main interest in life is your bowling league. You think
you are going to win back Mary's affections by impressing
her with your bowling scores, wimp, when with me she
meets Senators, CEOs, movie stars, and Nobel Prize
winners?
Even though I keep a hand in world affairs, my main
pursuit since retiring has been man's greatest pleasure:
Seduction! I love the feel of women and of sex. I love
the desire that women feel for me. I love overcoming
them and holding absolute power over them, the sense that
I am irresistible to them. And the power they give me
over their men!
Now you may find this hard to believe, wimp, but I've
never failed. I'll target any beautiful woman I see, and
I always fuck her. Always. So I look for challenges.
Virgins, of course, are lovely. I guess I've popped a
couple of hundred cherries, probably more. But people
who think seducing a virgin is the ultimate pleasure are
wrong. Very wrong! The ultimate pleasure is being the
first to seduce a married woman. Especially if she's
extraordinarily beautiful. And if, out of religious or
moral convictions, or love, she's never dreamed of
cheating on her husband. If the idea of even thinking of
having sex with another man would strike her as
incredible and repulsive. In short, if she's a woman
just like Mary. So seducing Mary was a rare pleasure for
me, wimp, and now I'm going to tell you all about it.
Mary has told me that in order to maintain even a
semblance of a middle-class lifestyle, she had to go to
work to supplement your measly income, wimp. Since she's
got much more intelligence and energy and imagination
than you'll ever have, it's no surprise that soon she was
earning more than you. And getting more responsibility.
Including business travel. Of course, you never worried
about those business trips Mary was always taking. There
was no need to. Prim Mary, so religious and so moral and
not even aware that she was married to one of the all-
time wimps, would never think of being unfaithful. Well,
you were right to be confident, wimp, because she never,
never would have thought of it. Not until she met me,
that is!
Remember that business trip she took back in June? She
was part of the team trying to sell consulting services
to a big city government. It was a deal in the tens of
millions, and the mayor asked me to come along to give
him some counsel. Since I had fucked the mayor's wife
and plucked his pretty 14-year-old daughter's cherry the
day before, I figured I owed him something, and I sat in
on the meetings.
The meetings were dull. I could see in five minutes what
the issues were going to be, and what the solutions were.
It took the rest of those bozos five hours to figure it
out. If Mary and I hadn't been there, it would have taken
them five weeks.
I was attracted to Mary immediately. First of all, she
was obviously brighter than anyone else in the room.
Second, she was a babe. That silky brown hair, hanging
straight down to her shoulders! Her beautiful baby
blues! The softness of her skin and the sweetness of her
mouth! Her neck! You know, Victorian novelists used to
talk about women having beautiful necks. (Actually, you
probably don't know, since it's unlikely you've
ever read
a novel, other than porno perhaps.) I don't think I've
seen more than five women in my life who I'd single out
for having a beautiful neck. But Mary is definitely one
of them. Her neck is so long and graceful.
Now underneath her neck, she didn't show much. She wore
one of her typical dresses, one that covered everything.
But a tent couldn't entirely conceal Mary's charms, and
the prudery of her dress was a great sign, so far as I
was concerned. This woman wasn't on the prowl. It would
take overwhelming desire before a woman like her would
succumb. And that was fine with me.
When the meeting was over, I asked Mary to have dinner
with me. She refused point blank. I mean, wimp, she
really was being faithful to you! But I told her I had
the penthouse suite in the ____________ Hotel and that
she really ought to see the view from my rooms. She knew
that was the best hotel in the city and had never been
inside it, much less in its most expensive suite. She
couldn't resist the bait. She agreed to come up for a
drink only, and on the condition that I not misinterpret
her going up there. I assured her my intentions were
strictly honorable. And wasn't I telling her the truth?
There's nothing dishonorable about cuckolding a wimp like
you.
Mary was suitably impressed by the suite. The living
room, she said, was larger than your entire house. And
the view is as fine a cityscape as you can find anywhere
in the United States. There were a large number of phone
messages that had piled up during the day. I didn't know
what they were but I played them on the speaker, figuring
Mary might like to hear them. They included a message
from the President of the United States--it was his
voice--two Senators, three CEOs, a Pulitzer Prize winning
writer, and two well-known movie stars, all imploring me
to get back to them ASAP. There were also several
messages from women, begging me to come see them soon
because their husbands just couldn't satisfy them the way
I do. A couple of those were also movie stars, probably
women you've fantasized about while jerking off. Some of
them used very explicit language and graphic
descriptions, and Mary blushed like crazy. But I
appreciated the free advertising.
It would have been the easiest thing in the world to fuck
Mary right there in my hotel suite, wimp. But she was
special, and I wanted to enjoy some anticipation. I
contented myself with a long, loving French kiss. Oh,
how sweet was the taste of her lips!
"Harry," she said, when we finally broke that kiss, "I've
never met anyone like you. I've never felt this way."
She hesitated but then, struggling, said, "You can do as
you wish with me."
I kissed her again.
"You're one of the most beautiful women on earth, Mary,"
I said. "And very special. I don't want to lead you
into doing something you'll regret."
She was moved by my gallantry. What a joke! She kissed
me again, passionately, invading my mouth with her
tongue.
"But I must see you again," she said.
I told her to tell her husband--that's you, wimp--that
she had another 5-day business trip the next month. I'd
meet her at the airport in your home city, and we'd skip
over to Italy for a few days in my villa over there. She
was thrilled.
So a week ago Monday, when Mary told you she was off to
Chicago to work on another deal, in fact she met me at
the airport. We entered the newest and most luxuriously
furnished of my three Gulfstream private jets and took
off for Italy. Aside from the pilot and co-pilot, there
were four gorgeous stewardesses just to take care of the
two of us. Mary was impressed. She looked even more
beautiful than I had remembered. To think that this
priceless gem of female beauty had lived for twenty-five
years and been wasted on you, wimp! Well, that was about
to change in a hurry.
The only thing that bothered me slightly was that
seducing your wife would be so easy. She had already
told me in my hotel suite a month earlier that I could
have her. Don't get me wrong. Fucking your wife Mary
was going to be a rare delight, under any circumstances.
I just would have liked some more resistance, that's all.
So I was delighted when, after we had taken off and were
sipping glasses filled from a newly-opened $1,500 bottle
of French champagne, she said she had something serious
to tell me.
"Harry, I've hardly been able to sleep from the shame of
what I said to you last time. Thank God you were gallant
enough not to take advantage of me when I lost my head.
For that alone, I'll never stop admiring you, Harry. You
see, what I said about how wonderful you are, and how
wonderfully I felt, that was all true. But I'm a married
woman, Harry. I've never been unfaithful to my husband.
Except for that crazy moment, I've never thought of being
unfaithful to him. I never, never will do it. Please
understand. If you want to order the pilot to turn the
plane around you'd be completely within your rights."
These words were music to my ears. Oh, fucking your wife
was going to be such a pleasure, wimp. I knew at that
moment that I'd be remembering the words she had just
spoken when she begged me to put my dick in her pussy.
And I knew she would. They all do!
"Darling Mary," I said. "Wonderful Mary, your company is
all I need to delight me. How lovely it will be to be in
Italy with you. And as I told you, I wouldn't dream of
pressing you to do anything your convictions tell you not
to do."
She gave me a warm, lingering French kiss. Oh, what a
beauty she is! It was a struggle to keep my dick from
growing. But I have complete control of my equipment,
and I wanted to wait for the right moment for her to
become aware of my hard-on.
We landed on the private airstrip on my estate in
northern Italy, which is on the Riviera near Genoa. I
have twenty-five luxurious estates or residences in
various major cities and resort areas, but I picked the
one in Northern Italy for seducing Mary, because I
figured she'd like one of the cozier ones. I won't go
into details, which you wouldn't understand anyway, wimp,
about the villa. Suffice to say that if you go to the
public library and check out almost any textbook on the
history of art, you'll see it pictured as the finest
architectural example of the baroque style in Italy. It
has forty rooms and I maintain a staff of 35, including
about a dozen strikingly beautiful young women who
provide.. Well, let's say "special services." The rest
of the staff is high priced and highly professional.
Mary had two ladies' maids on duty through her entire
visit. Her every whim was immediately attended to.
We landed late in the afternoon and it was a beautiful
summer's day on the Italian coast. I dismissed the Rolls
Royce and driver, and drove Mary the five miles along the
Mediterranean coast to the villa in one of my Jaguars.
Our luggage was brought right up to our rooms and
unpacked, and we followed to freshen up. When I rejoined
Mary in the dining room a half hour later, I asked her if
her suite was suitable.
"Oh, it's simply marvelous. I've never even seen such
luxury, much less experienced it. And the view of the
coast is simply breathtaking."
"And were the servants satisfactory," I asked, struggling
to avoid smiling. She blushed.
"I- I- I'm just not used to that kind of service," she
barely managed.
"Why, what do you mean?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
"Wh- When I went to the bathroom, they came with me, and
they.." She was bright red, and couldn't go on.
"Yes, they cleaned your most intimate parts, didn't they?
They are well trained. But did you object to that?"
She wasn't sure what to think, but she must have assumed
it was a European custom, and didn't want to seem
unsophisticated.
"Oh, no. It's just that I'm not used to such luxury."
I gave her a long, wet kiss. I knew that in addition to
gently washing Mary's pussy and asshole after she used
the toilet, the maids also had fluffed up and lightly
powdered and perfumed her pussy hair, just as I like it.
My staff is always impeccably trained. As for me, in
addition to receiving similar servicing from my two
regular maids, I had dumped a couple of huge loads of
sperm deep in the cunts of two particularly lovely
members of the special staff. I needed some relief
after all those hours, especially being stimulated by the
sight and the kisses of your wife.
We sat down for dinner. She said it was the most
marvelous meal she had ever had. Which, of course, it
was! We were enjoying an after-dinner drink, a rare
brandy. Each drop was more expensive than the entire
bottle of champagne we had had on the plane.
When we were finished, I led her into the living room.
The room is almost three times as large as the living
room in the hotel that she had admired the previous
month. The furnishings are in the baroque style, but
perfectly maintained in every detail. The view of the
coast faced in a different direction than the view from
her bedroom, but was equally magnificent. We sat on the
sofa, which, she said, is larger than the bed she has
shared with you at home, wimp.
We had another hour or so of small talk. Mary is
intelligent and enjoys talking about many things. But
you wouldn't know, wimp, because she doesn't seem to care
much about bowling scores, and what else would she talk
to you about?
But after about an hour there came a moment when our eyes
met, and there was a pause.
"Mary," I said, "you are one of the most attractive women
I've ever met." I gave her a long, affectionate kiss,
enjoying the sweet, sweet taste of her mouth. Can a wimp
like you even appreciate such a woman? And what a woman
she is!
That kiss was the most loving we had shared yet, and must
have lasted at least two whole minutes. Each of us was
using our hands now, stroking the other intimately and
affectionately. Then she broke away. There were tears
in her beautiful eyes.
She said, "Harry, I'm so attracted to you. I guess I
never knew an attraction could be this strong. But you
are so educated, so sophisticated. What can you possibly
see in me?"
Can you imagine Mary saying that to you, wimp? Oh God, I
almost hurt myself, I laughed so hard as I typed that
question just now. Anyway, I kissed Mary again and said,
"What I see in you is a beautiful, intelligent, soulful
woman who has never been loved as she deserves."
She kissed me, very passionately this time. Then, more
intensely than you can imagine, wimp:
"Oh, Harry, how I wish I had met you five years ago. But
I'm married."
"And does that matter so very much," I asked.
She sobbed, and responded emphatically, "Yes. Yes."
After a pause, she continued. "I admit my husband has
never made me feel as I feel right now. Never, not even
remotely. He never has and he never could. He's not in
your league as a man, Harry. Just an ordinary guy. But
he's been good to me over the years. A provider. As
much as he could be, at least. And loving and
considerate. And faithful. I couldn't cheat on him. I
just couldn't. It would be wrong. And it would crush
him."
All the while, she was sobbing hard. When she had calmed
down, I kissed her again. Her desire was transparent.
In her own mind, she was absolutely determined not to
give me anything more than kisses. But I knew that
seducing her from here would be child's play.
"Mary," I said quietly, "does your husband satisfy you?"
Do you think that was a low blow, wimp? Does the mere
thought of that question being put to your beautiful wife
turn your stomach? Give her credit, she tried valiantly
to defend you. She was obviously trying to hold back
tears and, after a long pause, she said, trying
pathetically to be casual, "Oh, yes, we make love twice a
month. And we DO love each other."
I let out a loud laugh, wimp, I just couldn't help it.
"Mary," I said, " if I were married to you and didn't
fuck you more than twice in a single DAY, you could
figure there must be something wrong with me. Only twice
a month! Imagine letting a beautiful sensuous woman like
you go with so little attention, so little satisfaction.
It's a crime."
With that, I gave her another very long, very
affectionate kiss. Her cheeks were streaked with tears,
but soft and beautiful as I stroked them gently with my
fingers. We continued to kiss and I gently stroked her
glossy brown hair, then her back. She was partly on my
lap, now, and I was able to move my hand down to her
fabulous ass cheeks. At the same time, her hands were
busy on my body. As had always been the case before, she
touched me only above the belt. But she was enamored of
my chiseled body. It must have been quite a change from
your flab and pot belly, wimp.
"How do I compare with your husband?" I asked.
Did you wince when you read that, wimp? Your wife winced
when I said it to her.. "Don't ask me that," she said.
"It isn't fair. You've never seen my husband, but you
know perfectly well that he can't compete with you as a
physical specimen. What 35-year-old man could? You know
damned well that there are twenty-year-old athletes who'd
sell their souls for a body as firm and lithe as yours."
I don't mean to be immodest, wimp, but maybe it's true.
Enough women have told me so. And enough twenty-year-old
athletes have looked on enviously as I made love to their
wives or girl friends.
Anyway, it was at this point that I took her hand, which
was lovingly stroking my chest, and gently moved it to my
crotch.
"Feel how much I want you, Mary," I said.
Her jaw dropped. Literally, wimp, her jaw just dropped!
I guess she'd never known what a real man would feel
like. How could she, being faithfully married to you,
wimp?
"You're so huge," she whispered. "And so hard. My
husband doesn't feel anything like this."
"Mary, you are gorgeous. Wonderful. As fine as any
woman on earth. For once in your life, you deserve to
know what it's like to be with a real man."
While I said this my other hand, the one that wasn't
holding hers against my hard penis, was stroking her
crotch. Her panties were wet. Sopping wet. She was
mine!
A few minutes later, I had her dress and bra off. I
stood her up and slid her panties down. Well, you know
what I saw at that moment, wimp. But pardon me if I
rhapsodize. What an ass! Globes so perfectly round and
soft and firm, and divided by a perfect, deep cleft. And
peeking up from her crotch at the base of that gorgeous
anal valley was a thick patch of pubic curls. I turned
her around so that I could enjoy the frontal view. Her
pubes were dark, darker than the already dark brown hair
that framed her beautiful face. But not quite black.
Her pubes were a rich mahogany. And such a thick, lush,
perfectly formed triangle. I could smell the powder and
gentle perfume the maids had used to anoint her pussy,
mingling with the much stronger natural fragrance of her
woman-crotch.
She must have been nervous or embarrassed, standing there
naked as I admired her genitals. "I've so much hair down
there," she said. "Do you think I should shave it or
trim it like some women do?"
"Mary," I said, "this pussy is perfect. Don't you ever
dare cut a single hair of it." And I planted a loving,
wet kiss right on the entrance to her pussy. Just think,
wimp. Another man tasting your wife's cunt!
I spent the next half hour exploring her beautiful pussy
with my mouth, with occasional excursions up that
mysterious cleft to her cute little anus. Women tell me
my oral technique is exceptional, wimp. Mary must have
thought so. She said you had lapped her cunt a few
times, but she never responded and the two of you had
given it up. She had thought it was her fault. But she
found out otherwise. She came at least five times during
my oral ministrations. And those were hard orgasms,
wimp. The hardest she had ever experienced, she said.
But I told her things would get a lot better than that.
She stood up and gave me another deep kiss, tasting her
own sweet woman-juices from my mouth, and pressing her
naked body close to my still fully clothed self.
When she finally let go, I took my shirt and undershirt
off, and then my shoes and socks. She hugged me again,
pressing her tits against my now-naked chest. I realize
her breasts are only about average in size, but wimp, can
you appreciate their shape? So perfectly round, such
sweet nipples, so pert. They are gems. I wanted her to
keep pressing them into my chest forever, but she pulled
away. She had spent plenty of time by now stroking my
chest, but this was the first time without clothing.
"Oh, Harry," she said, "you're such a beautiful man.
This strong chest feels so good, compared to my husband's
flab. I never knew what I was missing."
"Why don't you see what else you've been missing?" I
asked.
She laughed a wicked laugh. She knew exactly what I meant. Are
you getting nervous, wimp? I don't suppose this has been
pleasant reading so far, but even your dim intellect can probably
guess that it's about to get a lot worse.
"Let me take the rest off," she said. So she unbuckled my pants
and pulled them down. She let out a gasp, when my underwear came
into view. I have to have all my underwear made to order with
oversized crotches. But Mary had me so hard by now that even the
triple-sized pouch could not begin to accommodate me. The
projection of the shorts out from my body took her breath away.
She collected herself and got my pants off. She spent a few
seconds admiring my legs, but couldn't hold her attention away
from my crotch. It took some effort for her to work the elastic
over my hard-on, but she finally managed. She was rewarded with
her first sight of my manhood. Actually, with her first sight of
ANY manhood, considering the only other naked male she'd ever
seen was you, wimp.
Usually, I like to let a woman first see my dick when it is soft
and at its smallest. Even then, it's likely to be bigger than
any hard-on they've ever seen, and they can get even more amazed
when they see it grow. It's a pleasant reaction to watch. But I
was so aroused by your wife's beauty and from watching her
resolve to remain faithful dissolve from the force of my sexual
power, that I was at full size.
Do you want the stats, wimp? At full size, my penis is just over
fourteen inches long. As for thickness, let's just say I pass
the beer can test (as in, thicker than a beer can) with LOTS of
room to spare. And I get hard, wimp. Iron hard. Remember, Mary
was used to your limp dick that couldn't even pop a cherry.
There wasn't the tiniest bit of give or flexibility in the big
shaft she was staring at hungrily from a distance of only a few
inches. She could feel the radiant heat from my manhood. She
had a dazed look, as if she was in some sort of mystical trance.
Before she knew it, her hands were all over my shaft. Both her
hands together hardly covered half the length. And when she
tried to close her hands around the base, there were two inches
between her thumb and fingertips. How do you think we compete in
the manhood department, wimp?
"You're so much bigger than my husband," Mary said. "I had no
idea a man could be this big."
I asked her how big her husband was. Cheer up, wimp, Mary
actually tried to protect you. She said you were about seven
inches long. A couple of days and about fifteen fucks later, she
admitted that you were less than five inches. And then, on the
flight home, she told the truth. Under four inches, and no
thicker than Mary's index finger. Wimp, you can't believe how
much we laughed together over that!
After Mary spent several minutes just trying to get used to the
size and hardness and heat of my shaft, she noticed my testicles.
"Oh, sweet Jesus," she said, "they're enormous, too. My
husband's balls are smaller than marbles."
Would you say balls as large as the most jumbo eggs you can get
in the grocery store are enormous, wimp? Well, mine are a bit
larger than that. But maybe you still think I'm exaggerating.
Why don't you go ask Mary to show you the photographs of me
standing in the nude? Go ahead, right now!...
Even more downcast, wimp? Are you beginning to believe that I
don't exaggerate? Why should I? I don't need to. But maybe you
are unhappy for another reason, wimp. When you saw the picture
of my dick, thicker than your forearm, standing proudly at
attention above my washboard stomach and extending well up to my
muscular chest, did you think about how often you've dreamed in
your most secret dreams of having a big cock and a powerful body?
Did it trigger your deepest fantasies? And did your pitiful
shrimp dick get hard at the thought? Harder than it ever gets?
Am I right that at this moment, inspired by the sight of a real
man, you actually could pop a girl's cherry? If any girl were
stupid enough to let you, that is!
Anyway, Mary must have spent another twenty minutes or so fussing
over my man's equipment with her hands and her mouth. It was
hard to resist coming in that sweet mouth of hers, but I wanted
something else even more at that moment. I wanted to fuck that
beautiful furry pussy of hers. And she was READY, wimp. She
said she had never been nearly that wet in her life. I wasn't
surprised. Was a five foot, five inch flabby shitpile like
yourself going to make her wet?
I positioned my cock at the beautiful furry portal and began to
enter. Oh, it was sublime. Like I said, wimp, there's nothing
like taking a man's wife for the first time. Especially one so
beautiful and so virtuous. That was the moment, wimp, the moment
you became a cuckold! Oh, how I savored it. I'll bet right now,
you too are savoring the thought of it. Eh, cuckold? Why don't
you stop here for several minutes and think about that moment,
when my penis, so much bigger and harder than yours, penetrated
Mary's pussy, the pussy that no other man had ever enjoyed.
Think about it, and when you've finished this letter, come back
to it again and again. The minute you became a cuckold!
Wonderful though that moment was, I pushed right on. From the
first, my cock was spreading the lips and walls of Mary's pussy
as they had never been spread before. For a few seconds, she was
uncomfortable. "You're too thick," she whispered. "I can't take
you."
But she was so wet, that I slipped in fairly easily, despite the
thickness. And by spreading her cunt walls I was also exposing
nerve endings that had never been stimulated before. Her
discomfort didn't last more than a couple of seconds.
"Oh God," she moaned. I realize it's a cliche, but I'm telling
you that your wife MOANED, wimp. "Get it in, get it in. Fuck
me, fuck me." I remembered her little speech on the plane, about
how she'd never, never be unfaithful to you, wimp.
At this point, I had only a couple of inches more than the head
inside her cunt, but I was already deeper inside Mary than you
had ever been or ever will be. From here on all the way up her
channel it would be virgin territory. And I was spreading her
open as you could never dream of doing. She came, HARD, and I
wasn't even a third of the way inside her.
She had never had an orgasm like that, and was out of breath.
But I didn't give her any rest. I just kept on pushing forward,
slowly and inexorably into that divine love channel of hers. But
what would you know about it, having barely been able to touch
the walls of the entrance with your shrimpdick? So I'll tell
you, wimp. Deep inside, Mary's cunt is wet. And it's soft. And
it has a million little places that rub a big cock like mine in
wonderful little ways. And it's tight. No, it wouldn't be tight
for you, wimp, no cunt could be that tight. But as I pushed in,
her beautiful cunt grabbed my penis as if was holding on for dear
life.
Inch by inch, I entered your wife. Six inches. Eight inches.
Ten. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," she started yelling. She was
going crazy, and then she came again. I felt her cunt walls
clutching my hard dick, and her newly secreted cum juices sloshed
around, providing more lubrication.
On I pushed. Twelve inches, thirteen. There was about an inch
to go, when I felt my hard tip pressing against her cervix. I
had hit bottom, wimp. Mary's told me how you can't impregnate
her because your sperm count is too low, so that the two of you
long ago gave up on the possibility of a child. You won't have to
worry about that any more, wimp. Here I was, pressed right up
against her very womb. And I pushed again, stretching her cervix
to his limit. I was in all the way, my own thick, black pubic
hair mashed against her beautiful, dark brown curls. Her cunt
was stretched and stuffed to its absolute limit in every
dimension.
Then I started pumping her. Slowly at first, then very gradually
with faster in-and-out strokes. She had another hard orgasm,
much stronger than the ones before. And another. They started
coming closer together. I lost count around nine or ten, but
soon after that they became impossible to count anyway. Her
orgasms were overlapping and had become continuous. To tell you
the truth, wimp, I frequently get women to that state of
continuous orgasm and it's something to behold. But I've seen
very few women get as passionate as Mary did. There was a huge
voltage of electricity running continuously through her body,
emanating out from her fiery cunt. When I started stroking her
she was speaking. Nothing much, just "fuck me, fuck me," and
"yes, yes, yes," and that kind of thing. But the words gradually
got incoherent and then, when her orgasms became continuous, the
sounds converted into a steady, low moan.
I was pumping away, loving it as much as I'd ever loved fucking a
woman. And I really do love fucking women. But your wife was
too much, wimp. Usually, my first time fucking a woman, I go
forty minutes or an hour. (Mary tells me that on those rare
occasions when you can get it up enough to penetrate her at all,
you never last more than half a minute, wimp.) It was only about
twenty-five minutes after starting to fuck Mary that I knew I
wasn't going to be able to hold out any longer.
All of a sudden I came. My orgasms are always REAL strong, wimp,
but this was something else. Every nerve in my body was running
with electricity, and it felt like my big cock was a cannon.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! I just kept on
coming until it seemed like it would go on forever. And with
each explosion, massive bullets of white hot liquid manhood
propelled with tremendous velocity and power from close range
right up against Mary's stretched cervix. My extra-potent
man-fluids were headed special delivery for her fertile womb.
That's right, wimp. Check your calendar and you will see that
the days Mary spent with me in Italy were the peak of her
fertility cycle. I hope you have fun raising my child, wimp.
And you can be sure, there will be plenty more children that I'll
be planting in Mary's belly for you to bring up after this one.
Mary had never felt anything like what she felt when I fired my
load deep inside her pussy. Remember, she was already in a state
of continuous, highly intense orgasm and had been in that state
for over ten minutes. But my discharge brought her to a
completely new level. Of all the thousands of women I've fucked,
I've never seen one have such a violent orgasm as your wife
climbed to at that moment. The force of my iron hard shaft
erupting in orgasm had begun jerking her body around the bed, but
now her own orgasm wrenched her body even more violently. The
repeated clamping of her vagina on my cock was a sensation I'll
never forget.
Her last throes must have lasted at least two minutes. Then she
found rest. One of the things I love to see when I fuck a woman
well is the look of complete, unprecedented contentment that
comes over her face after the final, violent orgasm. It's as if
they've gone to an undiscovered country, a place of complete
tranquility and gentle pleasure. And the man who brings her to
that place is the man to whom she will belong forever. If I
hadn't already known, one glance at Mary at that moment would
have told me that I had succeeded royally. The look of complete
calm, complete happiness, complete adoration on that beautiful
face! It's not something you could ever dream of producing wimp.
But you'll get to see it, directed at me after you've been
watching me fuck her. How do you think you'll feel when you see
your wife gazing with pure adoration at another man?
She was in that state for nearly an hour, just gazing at me with
complete love and worship. Finally, she stirred, turning over
and lying partly on my body. She gave me a more loving,
affectionate kiss than you could possibly imagine. While she was
kissing me, a river of thick cum-cream flowed from her pussy onto
my thigh. I rang for the maids, one of whom licked my thigh
clean while the other tended to Mary, licking and swallowing the
copious amount of cream that had remained inside her.
"What would your husband say now?" I asked her, while the maids
were doing their quiet cleaning of our bodies.
"I don't care, Harry," she said. She gave me a warm smile, a
smile of radiant contentment. "I don't care at all. I can only
feel pity for him now. He does the best he can, but he's not a
man. I know that now."
She was quiet for a while and then continued, "Harry, I know it's
foolish to say this. But I'm in love with you. And I'm in love
with your wonderful manhood."
She held it. She was looking at it, not at me. "Harry, for the
first time in my life, I know what it is to be a woman and what
it is to be with a man."
She went on for quite some time, talking quietly and deliberately
about how she loved me, about how she adored my penis, about how
she was my woman forever and no matter what, about how there
wasn't anything she wouldn't do for me.
You'll never know, wimp, how sweet it is to be able to fuck a
woman into a state where she will talk to you like that. I've
heard it a thousand times. Believe me, wimp, I don't exaggerate
and I'm understating it here. I've heard words like those a
thousand times. And I'll never get tired of it.
Mary was still talking. "Harry, I've never felt anything
comparable to the way you've made me feel. I swear, I'll do
anything you want me to do. Tell me to become a whore, and I'll
do it. Tell me to be your lowest servant, to serve you and your
other women. Tell me to be your toilet slave, like these women
here. Tell me to cut my husband's balls off. Whatever you tell
me to do, I will do. But please, please let me be your woman."
Yes, you read right, wimp. Mary, your faithful wife Mary,
actually said she'd cut your balls off if I asked her to, as long
as I promise to go on fucking her. Fortunately for you, I'm not
into violence. But causing maximum humiliation for the husbands
of my women, the women who were completely faithful to those
husbands before I seduced them. That's something I can take
pleasure in, and I'll have no compunctions about enlisting Mary's
assistance.
Do you doubt that Mary said she'd cut your balls off, if I asked
her to? Do you doubt that she meant it and would do it in five
seconds if I gave the word? Do you want to ask her? No? I see,
you now recognize that every word in this letter is the truth.
Good. For the first time in your life, you are starting to learn
something.
We fucked pretty continuously for the next three days, with only
a little time off for an occasional meal and a drive around parts
of the estate she hadn't seen. I offered to show her more of
Italy, but she said she preferred to fuck me. I didn't keep
score, but I probably dumped about twenty more loads deep into
Mary's pussy, maybe ten in her throat, and three or four in her
rectum. Or to be more precise, past her rectum and into her
colon. But that's not the kind of distinction you'll ever need
to worry about, wimp.
We also had some parties. A few of the neighbors came over, but
mostly we partied with the hired help. Both Mary and I took
plenty of enjoyment from the "special services" my young female
staff were happy to provide. Mary really took a shine to one of
those girls, Carlotta. She's 18 years old, blonde, stacked, and
cute as a button. Mary's first-ever taste of cunt came between
Carlotta's legs, though I guess she got to taste each of the
dozen not to mention several of the neighbor women. I wonder if
she's continued to eat pussy since she's been home. But she
especially liked swallowing from a pussy that had just been
filled with a half-cup or so of my thick man-cream. I hope you
share that taste with your wife, wimp, because the only contact
with any pussy, your wife's or anyone else's, that you are going
to get in the future, is when you are sucking a man's cum from
it.
But do you think it's impossible that I could have come so many
times, not only in Mary's various receptacles, but in the pretty
hired help and the neighbors as well? If you won't take Mary's
word for that, I can refer you to a couple of articles in
respected medical journals, in which my sexual equipment has been
written up. The doctors think the size and unusual weight and
density of my testicles is the big factor. Those jewels produce
hundreds of times the amount of sperm and male hormones as the
average man. Which means thousands of times as much as a
sub-sub-average wimp like you.
On the last day, I flew back with Mary on the Gulfstream. To say
that it was a tearful parting when we landed would be an
understatement. She begged me to let her move in with me, even
if only as the lowliest of servants. Every day since she's been
back, I've received at least one letter from her, sometimes two
or three, telling me how much she loves me, begging me to take
her back.
FUCK MY WIFE!
CLICK BELOW TO FIND A BULL
So you are Mary's husband, the loser, the wimp, the
shrimp-dick that I've heard about. Well, I've got good
news and bad news for you, wimp. The good news is that
until last week, Mary had been faithful to you. Faithful
for five years of marriage. That's almost a miracle.
That such a drop dead, knock-down gorgeous babe like Mary
could have remained faithful to a wimp like you for five
minutes is hard to believe. It just shows how religious
she really is. And to think that a girl like that was a
virgin when she got married. By the way, she told me how
with your limp dick, you tried and failed several times
to break her cherry on your honeymoon, and she finally
had to do it for you with her own finger. Even with her
religious devoutness, how could she have remained
faithful to you? Of course, she really didn't know any
better. You couldn't turn her on, so she figured she
just wasn't highly sexed. Oh, brother!
Anyway, the good news for you is that until last week,
your wife had been faithful to you. Until then, you were
the only man who had ever fucked her. Which is to say,
she had never been fucked by a MAN. The bad news, you
can probably guess. Last week, I cuckolded you, wimp.
That's right, I gave your beautiful Mary the kind of
fucking she deserves and couldn't get in a million years
from a wimp like you. Mary's still your wife, but she's
my woman and I'm her man.
Right now, you probably think this is some incredible
hoax. But if it's a hoax, how did I know about you being
unable to deflower your wife? To set your mind at rest,
why don't you take this letter right now to Mary. Ask
her to look at what an incredible prank someone is trying
to play on the two of you by sending you such a letter.
Go ahead and ask her. Then you can read the rest of the
letter in the proper frame of mind.
Okay, Wimp, did you show her the letter? And the minute
she saw it, those beautiful blue eyes of hers dropped to
the floor, and you saw tears rolling down those soft,
soft cheeks, right? And finally she looked up at you
through those eyes sparkling with tears, and in a voice
you could hardly hear, she said, "Yes. Yes. I'm so
sorry, I'm so, so sorry, but every word is true. God
knows, I don't want it to be true, but I just can't help
myself." Am I right? Right. And then you felt your
stomach drop to the floor, right wimp? Oh, how I regret
not being able to see your shit-eating face when Mary
dropped that blow on you just now. But don't feel sorry
for me. I'm getting pleasure just thinking about it, and
thinking about how you are going to feel, reading all the
wonderful details I'm about to give you.
First, a bit about myself. I think that's only fair, so
that now that you've lost your wife to another man, you
can assess your chances of winning her back. Do you
think you can compete with me, wimp? (By the way, when I
say you've lost her, I don't mean you won't be able to
live with her. It's just that as I said above, she'll be
my woman--one of my women, I should say--and I'll be her
man. Her only man! And you'll be shit! At the end of
this letter, I'll lay out the conditions under which
you'll be allowed to go on living with Mary. They aren't
conditions that any real man would consider accepting for
a minute. But obviously, what a real man would do has
nothing to do with what you will do. You're so attached
to Mary, that she's certain you'll agree to anything, no
matter how humiliating.)
To start with, I'm 42 years old. So, perhaps you think
you have the advantage of youth, since you are only 34.
But then, Mary's only 25, so the difference doesn't seem
that great from her perspective. And I'm so much more
fit than you are. You are five feet, five inches, five
inches shorter than Mary. And your five feet, five
inches, are composed of pure flab. Mary showed me a
picture of you in a bathing suit. What a shapeless mess
you are!
I am SIX feet, five inches, a full foot taller than you.
Literally as well as figuratively, Mary looks up to me
and down at you, wimp. At 190 pounds, I'm the same weight
as you. But what a difference! You could look with a
magnifying glass and you wouldn't find a speck of flab on
my body. I have dark hair with just a dash of gray, and
people tell me I have movie star looks. But perhaps you
think I'm exaggerating.. Why don't you go ask Mary to
show you the picture of me in my dress suit. Go ahead,
before you read any further..
Why the crestfallen look, wimp? So I wasn't exaggerating
a bit! In fact, I was being modest, wasn't I? Guess
what, wimp? Throughout this letter you are going to be
thinking I must be exaggerating, but you are going to
find out that every word is the truth. The painful,
stinging truth, wimp.
Well, looks aren't everything. Let's see, Mary told me
you graduated from junior college, with a degree in
bookkeeping. You've got a crummy job as an insurance
actuary, earning $30,000. Your chances for promotion to
any significantly better job any time in your career are
nil.
I went to college at Yale, got a Ph.D. in economics at
the University of Chicago, and a business degree at
Harvard. I finished first in my class by a substantial
margin at each of those places. I then went into venture
capital and hit Silicon Valley just at the right time. I
think I can claim to have been a success. Successful
enough, at any rate, to retire seven years ago at the age
of 35, after I had made my third billion.
Not that I've completely detached myself from the world.
CEO's of Fortune 500 companies and politicians in both
parties are always kissing my ass--sometimes literally--
because they want my help or advice on one thing or
another. And I'm well known in the world of cultural
affairs. Every major arts and cultural organization in
the country has asked me to be on its board, though I've
accepted only a select few of the positions that were
offered. So when she's around me, Mary meets the most
successful, the most glamorous, the most sophisticated
people in the world, and she participates in
conversations that you wouldn't even be able to
comprehend, wimp. Now let's compare. Mary tells me your
main interest in life is your bowling league. You think
you are going to win back Mary's affections by impressing
her with your bowling scores, wimp, when with me she
meets Senators, CEOs, movie stars, and Nobel Prize
winners?
Even though I keep a hand in world affairs, my main
pursuit since retiring has been man's greatest pleasure:
Seduction! I love the feel of women and of sex. I love
the desire that women feel for me. I love overcoming
them and holding absolute power over them, the sense that
I am irresistible to them. And the power they give me
over their men!
Now you may find this hard to believe, wimp, but I've
never failed. I'll target any beautiful woman I see, and
I always fuck her. Always. So I look for challenges.
Virgins, of course, are lovely. I guess I've popped a
couple of hundred cherries, probably more. But people
who think seducing a virgin is the ultimate pleasure are
wrong. Very wrong! The ultimate pleasure is being the
first to seduce a married woman. Especially if she's
extraordinarily beautiful. And if, out of religious or
moral convictions, or love, she's never dreamed of
cheating on her husband. If the idea of even thinking of
having sex with another man would strike her as
incredible and repulsive. In short, if she's a woman
just like Mary. So seducing Mary was a rare pleasure for
me, wimp, and now I'm going to tell you all about it.
Mary has told me that in order to maintain even a
semblance of a middle-class lifestyle, she had to go to
work to supplement your measly income, wimp. Since she's
got much more intelligence and energy and imagination
than you'll ever have, it's no surprise that soon she was
earning more than you. And getting more responsibility.
Including business travel. Of course, you never worried
about those business trips Mary was always taking. There
was no need to. Prim Mary, so religious and so moral and
not even aware that she was married to one of the all-
time wimps, would never think of being unfaithful. Well,
you were right to be confident, wimp, because she never,
never would have thought of it. Not until she met me,
that is!
Remember that business trip she took back in June? She
was part of the team trying to sell consulting services
to a big city government. It was a deal in the tens of
millions, and the mayor asked me to come along to give
him some counsel. Since I had fucked the mayor's wife
and plucked his pretty 14-year-old daughter's cherry the
day before, I figured I owed him something, and I sat in
on the meetings.
The meetings were dull. I could see in five minutes what
the issues were going to be, and what the solutions were.
It took the rest of those bozos five hours to figure it
out. If Mary and I hadn't been there, it would have taken
them five weeks.
I was attracted to Mary immediately. First of all, she
was obviously brighter than anyone else in the room.
Second, she was a babe. That silky brown hair, hanging
straight down to her shoulders! Her beautiful baby
blues! The softness of her skin and the sweetness of her
mouth! Her neck! You know, Victorian novelists used to
talk about women having beautiful necks. (Actually, you
probably don't know, since it's unlikely you've
ever read
a novel, other than porno perhaps.) I don't think I've
seen more than five women in my life who I'd single out
for having a beautiful neck. But Mary is definitely one
of them. Her neck is so long and graceful.
Now underneath her neck, she didn't show much. She wore
one of her typical dresses, one that covered everything.
But a tent couldn't entirely conceal Mary's charms, and
the prudery of her dress was a great sign, so far as I
was concerned. This woman wasn't on the prowl. It would
take overwhelming desire before a woman like her would
succumb. And that was fine with me.
When the meeting was over, I asked Mary to have dinner
with me. She refused point blank. I mean, wimp, she
really was being faithful to you! But I told her I had
the penthouse suite in the ____________ Hotel and that
she really ought to see the view from my rooms. She knew
that was the best hotel in the city and had never been
inside it, much less in its most expensive suite. She
couldn't resist the bait. She agreed to come up for a
drink only, and on the condition that I not misinterpret
her going up there. I assured her my intentions were
strictly honorable. And wasn't I telling her the truth?
There's nothing dishonorable about cuckolding a wimp like
you.
Mary was suitably impressed by the suite. The living
room, she said, was larger than your entire house. And
the view is as fine a cityscape as you can find anywhere
in the United States. There were a large number of phone
messages that had piled up during the day. I didn't know
what they were but I played them on the speaker, figuring
Mary might like to hear them. They included a message
from the President of the United States--it was his
voice--two Senators, three CEOs, a Pulitzer Prize winning
writer, and two well-known movie stars, all imploring me
to get back to them ASAP. There were also several
messages from women, begging me to come see them soon
because their husbands just couldn't satisfy them the way
I do. A couple of those were also movie stars, probably
women you've fantasized about while jerking off. Some of
them used very explicit language and graphic
descriptions, and Mary blushed like crazy. But I
appreciated the free advertising.
It would have been the easiest thing in the world to fuck
Mary right there in my hotel suite, wimp. But she was
special, and I wanted to enjoy some anticipation. I
contented myself with a long, loving French kiss. Oh,
how sweet was the taste of her lips!
"Harry," she said, when we finally broke that kiss, "I've
never met anyone like you. I've never felt this way."
She hesitated but then, struggling, said, "You can do as
you wish with me."
I kissed her again.
"You're one of the most beautiful women on earth, Mary,"
I said. "And very special. I don't want to lead you
into doing something you'll regret."
She was moved by my gallantry. What a joke! She kissed
me again, passionately, invading my mouth with her
tongue.
"But I must see you again," she said.
I told her to tell her husband--that's you, wimp--that
she had another 5-day business trip the next month. I'd
meet her at the airport in your home city, and we'd skip
over to Italy for a few days in my villa over there. She
was thrilled.
So a week ago Monday, when Mary told you she was off to
Chicago to work on another deal, in fact she met me at
the airport. We entered the newest and most luxuriously
furnished of my three Gulfstream private jets and took
off for Italy. Aside from the pilot and co-pilot, there
were four gorgeous stewardesses just to take care of the
two of us. Mary was impressed. She looked even more
beautiful than I had remembered. To think that this
priceless gem of female beauty had lived for twenty-five
years and been wasted on you, wimp! Well, that was about
to change in a hurry.
The only thing that bothered me slightly was that
seducing your wife would be so easy. She had already
told me in my hotel suite a month earlier that I could
have her. Don't get me wrong. Fucking your wife Mary
was going to be a rare delight, under any circumstances.
I just would have liked some more resistance, that's all.
So I was delighted when, after we had taken off and were
sipping glasses filled from a newly-opened $1,500 bottle
of French champagne, she said she had something serious
to tell me.
"Harry, I've hardly been able to sleep from the shame of
what I said to you last time. Thank God you were gallant
enough not to take advantage of me when I lost my head.
For that alone, I'll never stop admiring you, Harry. You
see, what I said about how wonderful you are, and how
wonderfully I felt, that was all true. But I'm a married
woman, Harry. I've never been unfaithful to my husband.
Except for that crazy moment, I've never thought of being
unfaithful to him. I never, never will do it. Please
understand. If you want to order the pilot to turn the
plane around you'd be completely within your rights."
These words were music to my ears. Oh, fucking your wife
was going to be such a pleasure, wimp. I knew at that
moment that I'd be remembering the words she had just
spoken when she begged me to put my dick in her pussy.
And I knew she would. They all do!
"Darling Mary," I said. "Wonderful Mary, your company is
all I need to delight me. How lovely it will be to be in
Italy with you. And as I told you, I wouldn't dream of
pressing you to do anything your convictions tell you not
to do."
She gave me a warm, lingering French kiss. Oh, what a
beauty she is! It was a struggle to keep my dick from
growing. But I have complete control of my equipment,
and I wanted to wait for the right moment for her to
become aware of my hard-on.
We landed on the private airstrip on my estate in
northern Italy, which is on the Riviera near Genoa. I
have twenty-five luxurious estates or residences in
various major cities and resort areas, but I picked the
one in Northern Italy for seducing Mary, because I
figured she'd like one of the cozier ones. I won't go
into details, which you wouldn't understand anyway, wimp,
about the villa. Suffice to say that if you go to the
public library and check out almost any textbook on the
history of art, you'll see it pictured as the finest
architectural example of the baroque style in Italy. It
has forty rooms and I maintain a staff of 35, including
about a dozen strikingly beautiful young women who
provide.. Well, let's say "special services." The rest
of the staff is high priced and highly professional.
Mary had two ladies' maids on duty through her entire
visit. Her every whim was immediately attended to.
We landed late in the afternoon and it was a beautiful
summer's day on the Italian coast. I dismissed the Rolls
Royce and driver, and drove Mary the five miles along the
Mediterranean coast to the villa in one of my Jaguars.
Our luggage was brought right up to our rooms and
unpacked, and we followed to freshen up. When I rejoined
Mary in the dining room a half hour later, I asked her if
her suite was suitable.
"Oh, it's simply marvelous. I've never even seen such
luxury, much less experienced it. And the view of the
coast is simply breathtaking."
"And were the servants satisfactory," I asked, struggling
to avoid smiling. She blushed.
"I- I- I'm just not used to that kind of service," she
barely managed.
"Why, what do you mean?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
"Wh- When I went to the bathroom, they came with me, and
they.." She was bright red, and couldn't go on.
"Yes, they cleaned your most intimate parts, didn't they?
They are well trained. But did you object to that?"
She wasn't sure what to think, but she must have assumed
it was a European custom, and didn't want to seem
unsophisticated.
"Oh, no. It's just that I'm not used to such luxury."
I gave her a long, wet kiss. I knew that in addition to
gently washing Mary's pussy and asshole after she used
the toilet, the maids also had fluffed up and lightly
powdered and perfumed her pussy hair, just as I like it.
My staff is always impeccably trained. As for me, in
addition to receiving similar servicing from my two
regular maids, I had dumped a couple of huge loads of
sperm deep in the cunts of two particularly lovely
members of the special staff. I needed some relief
after all those hours, especially being stimulated by the
sight and the kisses of your wife.
We sat down for dinner. She said it was the most
marvelous meal she had ever had. Which, of course, it
was! We were enjoying an after-dinner drink, a rare
brandy. Each drop was more expensive than the entire
bottle of champagne we had had on the plane.
When we were finished, I led her into the living room.
The room is almost three times as large as the living
room in the hotel that she had admired the previous
month. The furnishings are in the baroque style, but
perfectly maintained in every detail. The view of the
coast faced in a different direction than the view from
her bedroom, but was equally magnificent. We sat on the
sofa, which, she said, is larger than the bed she has
shared with you at home, wimp.
We had another hour or so of small talk. Mary is
intelligent and enjoys talking about many things. But
you wouldn't know, wimp, because she doesn't seem to care
much about bowling scores, and what else would she talk
to you about?
But after about an hour there came a moment when our eyes
met, and there was a pause.
"Mary," I said, "you are one of the most attractive women
I've ever met." I gave her a long, affectionate kiss,
enjoying the sweet, sweet taste of her mouth. Can a wimp
like you even appreciate such a woman? And what a woman
she is!
That kiss was the most loving we had shared yet, and must
have lasted at least two whole minutes. Each of us was
using our hands now, stroking the other intimately and
affectionately. Then she broke away. There were tears
in her beautiful eyes.
She said, "Harry, I'm so attracted to you. I guess I
never knew an attraction could be this strong. But you
are so educated, so sophisticated. What can you possibly
see in me?"
Can you imagine Mary saying that to you, wimp? Oh God, I
almost hurt myself, I laughed so hard as I typed that
question just now. Anyway, I kissed Mary again and said,
"What I see in you is a beautiful, intelligent, soulful
woman who has never been loved as she deserves."
She kissed me, very passionately this time. Then, more
intensely than you can imagine, wimp:
"Oh, Harry, how I wish I had met you five years ago. But
I'm married."
"And does that matter so very much," I asked.
She sobbed, and responded emphatically, "Yes. Yes."
After a pause, she continued. "I admit my husband has
never made me feel as I feel right now. Never, not even
remotely. He never has and he never could. He's not in
your league as a man, Harry. Just an ordinary guy. But
he's been good to me over the years. A provider. As
much as he could be, at least. And loving and
considerate. And faithful. I couldn't cheat on him. I
just couldn't. It would be wrong. And it would crush
him."
All the while, she was sobbing hard. When she had calmed
down, I kissed her again. Her desire was transparent.
In her own mind, she was absolutely determined not to
give me anything more than kisses. But I knew that
seducing her from here would be child's play.
"Mary," I said quietly, "does your husband satisfy you?"
Do you think that was a low blow, wimp? Does the mere
thought of that question being put to your beautiful wife
turn your stomach? Give her credit, she tried valiantly
to defend you. She was obviously trying to hold back
tears and, after a long pause, she said, trying
pathetically to be casual, "Oh, yes, we make love twice a
month. And we DO love each other."
I let out a loud laugh, wimp, I just couldn't help it.
"Mary," I said, " if I were married to you and didn't
fuck you more than twice in a single DAY, you could
figure there must be something wrong with me. Only twice
a month! Imagine letting a beautiful sensuous woman like
you go with so little attention, so little satisfaction.
It's a crime."
With that, I gave her another very long, very
affectionate kiss. Her cheeks were streaked with tears,
but soft and beautiful as I stroked them gently with my
fingers. We continued to kiss and I gently stroked her
glossy brown hair, then her back. She was partly on my
lap, now, and I was able to move my hand down to her
fabulous ass cheeks. At the same time, her hands were
busy on my body. As had always been the case before, she
touched me only above the belt. But she was enamored of
my chiseled body. It must have been quite a change from
your flab and pot belly, wimp.
"How do I compare with your husband?" I asked.
Did you wince when you read that, wimp? Your wife winced
when I said it to her.. "Don't ask me that," she said.
"It isn't fair. You've never seen my husband, but you
know perfectly well that he can't compete with you as a
physical specimen. What 35-year-old man could? You know
damned well that there are twenty-year-old athletes who'd
sell their souls for a body as firm and lithe as yours."
I don't mean to be immodest, wimp, but maybe it's true.
Enough women have told me so. And enough twenty-year-old
athletes have looked on enviously as I made love to their
wives or girl friends.
Anyway, it was at this point that I took her hand, which
was lovingly stroking my chest, and gently moved it to my
crotch.
"Feel how much I want you, Mary," I said.
Her jaw dropped. Literally, wimp, her jaw just dropped!
I guess she'd never known what a real man would feel
like. How could she, being faithfully married to you,
wimp?
"You're so huge," she whispered. "And so hard. My
husband doesn't feel anything like this."
"Mary, you are gorgeous. Wonderful. As fine as any
woman on earth. For once in your life, you deserve to
know what it's like to be with a real man."
While I said this my other hand, the one that wasn't
holding hers against my hard penis, was stroking her
crotch. Her panties were wet. Sopping wet. She was
mine!
A few minutes later, I had her dress and bra off. I
stood her up and slid her panties down. Well, you know
what I saw at that moment, wimp. But pardon me if I
rhapsodize. What an ass! Globes so perfectly round and
soft and firm, and divided by a perfect, deep cleft. And
peeking up from her crotch at the base of that gorgeous
anal valley was a thick patch of pubic curls. I turned
her around so that I could enjoy the frontal view. Her
pubes were dark, darker than the already dark brown hair
that framed her beautiful face. But not quite black.
Her pubes were a rich mahogany. And such a thick, lush,
perfectly formed triangle. I could smell the powder and
gentle perfume the maids had used to anoint her pussy,
mingling with the much stronger natural fragrance of her
woman-crotch.
She must have been nervous or embarrassed, standing there
naked as I admired her genitals. "I've so much hair down
there," she said. "Do you think I should shave it or
trim it like some women do?"
"Mary," I said, "this pussy is perfect. Don't you ever
dare cut a single hair of it." And I planted a loving,
wet kiss right on the entrance to her pussy. Just think,
wimp. Another man tasting your wife's cunt!
I spent the next half hour exploring her beautiful pussy
with my mouth, with occasional excursions up that
mysterious cleft to her cute little anus. Women tell me
my oral technique is exceptional, wimp. Mary must have
thought so. She said you had lapped her cunt a few
times, but she never responded and the two of you had
given it up. She had thought it was her fault. But she
found out otherwise. She came at least five times during
my oral ministrations. And those were hard orgasms,
wimp. The hardest she had ever experienced, she said.
But I told her things would get a lot better than that.
She stood up and gave me another deep kiss, tasting her
own sweet woman-juices from my mouth, and pressing her
naked body close to my still fully clothed self.
When she finally let go, I took my shirt and undershirt
off, and then my shoes and socks. She hugged me again,
pressing her tits against my now-naked chest. I realize
her breasts are only about average in size, but wimp, can
you appreciate their shape? So perfectly round, such
sweet nipples, so pert. They are gems. I wanted her to
keep pressing them into my chest forever, but she pulled
away. She had spent plenty of time by now stroking my
chest, but this was the first time without clothing.
"Oh, Harry," she said, "you're such a beautiful man.
This strong chest feels so good, compared to my husband's
flab. I never knew what I was missing."
"Why don't you see what else you've been missing?" I
asked.
She laughed a wicked laugh. She knew exactly what I meant. Are
you getting nervous, wimp? I don't suppose this has been
pleasant reading so far, but even your dim intellect can probably
guess that it's about to get a lot worse.
"Let me take the rest off," she said. So she unbuckled my pants
and pulled them down. She let out a gasp, when my underwear came
into view. I have to have all my underwear made to order with
oversized crotches. But Mary had me so hard by now that even the
triple-sized pouch could not begin to accommodate me. The
projection of the shorts out from my body took her breath away.
She collected herself and got my pants off. She spent a few
seconds admiring my legs, but couldn't hold her attention away
from my crotch. It took some effort for her to work the elastic
over my hard-on, but she finally managed. She was rewarded with
her first sight of my manhood. Actually, with her first sight of
ANY manhood, considering the only other naked male she'd ever
seen was you, wimp.
Usually, I like to let a woman first see my dick when it is soft
and at its smallest. Even then, it's likely to be bigger than
any hard-on they've ever seen, and they can get even more amazed
when they see it grow. It's a pleasant reaction to watch. But I
was so aroused by your wife's beauty and from watching her
resolve to remain faithful dissolve from the force of my sexual
power, that I was at full size.
Do you want the stats, wimp? At full size, my penis is just over
fourteen inches long. As for thickness, let's just say I pass
the beer can test (as in, thicker than a beer can) with LOTS of
room to spare. And I get hard, wimp. Iron hard. Remember, Mary
was used to your limp dick that couldn't even pop a cherry.
There wasn't the tiniest bit of give or flexibility in the big
shaft she was staring at hungrily from a distance of only a few
inches. She could feel the radiant heat from my manhood. She
had a dazed look, as if she was in some sort of mystical trance.
Before she knew it, her hands were all over my shaft. Both her
hands together hardly covered half the length. And when she
tried to close her hands around the base, there were two inches
between her thumb and fingertips. How do you think we compete in
the manhood department, wimp?
"You're so much bigger than my husband," Mary said. "I had no
idea a man could be this big."
I asked her how big her husband was. Cheer up, wimp, Mary
actually tried to protect you. She said you were about seven
inches long. A couple of days and about fifteen fucks later, she
admitted that you were less than five inches. And then, on the
flight home, she told the truth. Under four inches, and no
thicker than Mary's index finger. Wimp, you can't believe how
much we laughed together over that!
After Mary spent several minutes just trying to get used to the
size and hardness and heat of my shaft, she noticed my testicles.
"Oh, sweet Jesus," she said, "they're enormous, too. My
husband's balls are smaller than marbles."
Would you say balls as large as the most jumbo eggs you can get
in the grocery store are enormous, wimp? Well, mine are a bit
larger than that. But maybe you still think I'm exaggerating.
Why don't you go ask Mary to show you the photographs of me
standing in the nude? Go ahead, right now!...
Even more downcast, wimp? Are you beginning to believe that I
don't exaggerate? Why should I? I don't need to. But maybe you
are unhappy for another reason, wimp. When you saw the picture
of my dick, thicker than your forearm, standing proudly at
attention above my washboard stomach and extending well up to my
muscular chest, did you think about how often you've dreamed in
your most secret dreams of having a big cock and a powerful body?
Did it trigger your deepest fantasies? And did your pitiful
shrimp dick get hard at the thought? Harder than it ever gets?
Am I right that at this moment, inspired by the sight of a real
man, you actually could pop a girl's cherry? If any girl were
stupid enough to let you, that is!
Anyway, Mary must have spent another twenty minutes or so fussing
over my man's equipment with her hands and her mouth. It was
hard to resist coming in that sweet mouth of hers, but I wanted
something else even more at that moment. I wanted to fuck that
beautiful furry pussy of hers. And she was READY, wimp. She
said she had never been nearly that wet in her life. I wasn't
surprised. Was a five foot, five inch flabby shitpile like
yourself going to make her wet?
I positioned my cock at the beautiful furry portal and began to
enter. Oh, it was sublime. Like I said, wimp, there's nothing
like taking a man's wife for the first time. Especially one so
beautiful and so virtuous. That was the moment, wimp, the moment
you became a cuckold! Oh, how I savored it. I'll bet right now,
you too are savoring the thought of it. Eh, cuckold? Why don't
you stop here for several minutes and think about that moment,
when my penis, so much bigger and harder than yours, penetrated
Mary's pussy, the pussy that no other man had ever enjoyed.
Think about it, and when you've finished this letter, come back
to it again and again. The minute you became a cuckold!
Wonderful though that moment was, I pushed right on. From the
first, my cock was spreading the lips and walls of Mary's pussy
as they had never been spread before. For a few seconds, she was
uncomfortable. "You're too thick," she whispered. "I can't take
you."
But she was so wet, that I slipped in fairly easily, despite the
thickness. And by spreading her cunt walls I was also exposing
nerve endings that had never been stimulated before. Her
discomfort didn't last more than a couple of seconds.
"Oh God," she moaned. I realize it's a cliche, but I'm telling
you that your wife MOANED, wimp. "Get it in, get it in. Fuck
me, fuck me." I remembered her little speech on the plane, about
how she'd never, never be unfaithful to you, wimp.
At this point, I had only a couple of inches more than the head
inside her cunt, but I was already deeper inside Mary than you
had ever been or ever will be. From here on all the way up her
channel it would be virgin territory. And I was spreading her
open as you could never dream of doing. She came, HARD, and I
wasn't even a third of the way inside her.
She had never had an orgasm like that, and was out of breath.
But I didn't give her any rest. I just kept on pushing forward,
slowly and inexorably into that divine love channel of hers. But
what would you know about it, having barely been able to touch
the walls of the entrance with your shrimpdick? So I'll tell
you, wimp. Deep inside, Mary's cunt is wet. And it's soft. And
it has a million little places that rub a big cock like mine in
wonderful little ways. And it's tight. No, it wouldn't be tight
for you, wimp, no cunt could be that tight. But as I pushed in,
her beautiful cunt grabbed my penis as if was holding on for dear
life.
Inch by inch, I entered your wife. Six inches. Eight inches.
Ten. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," she started yelling. She was
going crazy, and then she came again. I felt her cunt walls
clutching my hard dick, and her newly secreted cum juices sloshed
around, providing more lubrication.
On I pushed. Twelve inches, thirteen. There was about an inch
to go, when I felt my hard tip pressing against her cervix. I
had hit bottom, wimp. Mary's told me how you can't impregnate
her because your sperm count is too low, so that the two of you
long ago gave up on the possibility of a child. You won't have to
worry about that any more, wimp. Here I was, pressed right up
against her very womb. And I pushed again, stretching her cervix
to his limit. I was in all the way, my own thick, black pubic
hair mashed against her beautiful, dark brown curls. Her cunt
was stretched and stuffed to its absolute limit in every
dimension.
Then I started pumping her. Slowly at first, then very gradually
with faster in-and-out strokes. She had another hard orgasm,
much stronger than the ones before. And another. They started
coming closer together. I lost count around nine or ten, but
soon after that they became impossible to count anyway. Her
orgasms were overlapping and had become continuous. To tell you
the truth, wimp, I frequently get women to that state of
continuous orgasm and it's something to behold. But I've seen
very few women get as passionate as Mary did. There was a huge
voltage of electricity running continuously through her body,
emanating out from her fiery cunt. When I started stroking her
she was speaking. Nothing much, just "fuck me, fuck me," and
"yes, yes, yes," and that kind of thing. But the words gradually
got incoherent and then, when her orgasms became continuous, the
sounds converted into a steady, low moan.
I was pumping away, loving it as much as I'd ever loved fucking a
woman. And I really do love fucking women. But your wife was
too much, wimp. Usually, my first time fucking a woman, I go
forty minutes or an hour. (Mary tells me that on those rare
occasions when you can get it up enough to penetrate her at all,
you never last more than half a minute, wimp.) It was only about
twenty-five minutes after starting to fuck Mary that I knew I
wasn't going to be able to hold out any longer.
All of a sudden I came. My orgasms are always REAL strong, wimp,
but this was something else. Every nerve in my body was running
with electricity, and it felt like my big cock was a cannon.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! I just kept on
coming until it seemed like it would go on forever. And with
each explosion, massive bullets of white hot liquid manhood
propelled with tremendous velocity and power from close range
right up against Mary's stretched cervix. My extra-potent
man-fluids were headed special delivery for her fertile womb.
That's right, wimp. Check your calendar and you will see that
the days Mary spent with me in Italy were the peak of her
fertility cycle. I hope you have fun raising my child, wimp.
And you can be sure, there will be plenty more children that I'll
be planting in Mary's belly for you to bring up after this one.
Mary had never felt anything like what she felt when I fired my
load deep inside her pussy. Remember, she was already in a state
of continuous, highly intense orgasm and had been in that state
for over ten minutes. But my discharge brought her to a
completely new level. Of all the thousands of women I've fucked,
I've never seen one have such a violent orgasm as your wife
climbed to at that moment. The force of my iron hard shaft
erupting in orgasm had begun jerking her body around the bed, but
now her own orgasm wrenched her body even more violently. The
repeated clamping of her vagina on my cock was a sensation I'll
never forget.
Her last throes must have lasted at least two minutes. Then she
found rest. One of the things I love to see when I fuck a woman
well is the look of complete, unprecedented contentment that
comes over her face after the final, violent orgasm. It's as if
they've gone to an undiscovered country, a place of complete
tranquility and gentle pleasure. And the man who brings her to
that place is the man to whom she will belong forever. If I
hadn't already known, one glance at Mary at that moment would
have told me that I had succeeded royally. The look of complete
calm, complete happiness, complete adoration on that beautiful
face! It's not something you could ever dream of producing wimp.
But you'll get to see it, directed at me after you've been
watching me fuck her. How do you think you'll feel when you see
your wife gazing with pure adoration at another man?
She was in that state for nearly an hour, just gazing at me with
complete love and worship. Finally, she stirred, turning over
and lying partly on my body. She gave me a more loving,
affectionate kiss than you could possibly imagine. While she was
kissing me, a river of thick cum-cream flowed from her pussy onto
my thigh. I rang for the maids, one of whom licked my thigh
clean while the other tended to Mary, licking and swallowing the
copious amount of cream that had remained inside her.
"What would your husband say now?" I asked her, while the maids
were doing their quiet cleaning of our bodies.
"I don't care, Harry," she said. She gave me a warm smile, a
smile of radiant contentment. "I don't care at all. I can only
feel pity for him now. He does the best he can, but he's not a
man. I know that now."
She was quiet for a while and then continued, "Harry, I know it's
foolish to say this. But I'm in love with you. And I'm in love
with your wonderful manhood."
She held it. She was looking at it, not at me. "Harry, for the
first time in my life, I know what it is to be a woman and what
it is to be with a man."
She went on for quite some time, talking quietly and deliberately
about how she loved me, about how she adored my penis, about how
she was my woman forever and no matter what, about how there
wasn't anything she wouldn't do for me.
You'll never know, wimp, how sweet it is to be able to fuck a
woman into a state where she will talk to you like that. I've
heard it a thousand times. Believe me, wimp, I don't exaggerate
and I'm understating it here. I've heard words like those a
thousand times. And I'll never get tired of it.
Mary was still talking. "Harry, I've never felt anything
comparable to the way you've made me feel. I swear, I'll do
anything you want me to do. Tell me to become a whore, and I'll
do it. Tell me to be your lowest servant, to serve you and your
other women. Tell me to be your toilet slave, like these women
here. Tell me to cut my husband's balls off. Whatever you tell
me to do, I will do. But please, please let me be your woman."
Yes, you read right, wimp. Mary, your faithful wife Mary,
actually said she'd cut your balls off if I asked her to, as long
as I promise to go on fucking her. Fortunately for you, I'm not
into violence. But causing maximum humiliation for the husbands
of my women, the women who were completely faithful to those
husbands before I seduced them. That's something I can take
pleasure in, and I'll have no compunctions about enlisting Mary's
assistance.
Do you doubt that Mary said she'd cut your balls off, if I asked
her to? Do you doubt that she meant it and would do it in five
seconds if I gave the word? Do you want to ask her? No? I see,
you now recognize that every word in this letter is the truth.
Good. For the first time in your life, you are starting to learn
something.
We fucked pretty continuously for the next three days, with only
a little time off for an occasional meal and a drive around parts
of the estate she hadn't seen. I offered to show her more of
Italy, but she said she preferred to fuck me. I didn't keep
score, but I probably dumped about twenty more loads deep into
Mary's pussy, maybe ten in her throat, and three or four in her
rectum. Or to be more precise, past her rectum and into her
colon. But that's not the kind of distinction you'll ever need
to worry about, wimp.
We also had some parties. A few of the neighbors came over, but
mostly we partied with the hired help. Both Mary and I took
plenty of enjoyment from the "special services" my young female
staff were happy to provide. Mary really took a shine to one of
those girls, Carlotta. She's 18 years old, blonde, stacked, and
cute as a button. Mary's first-ever taste of cunt came between
Carlotta's legs, though I guess she got to taste each of the
dozen not to mention several of the neighbor women. I wonder if
she's continued to eat pussy since she's been home. But she
especially liked swallowing from a pussy that had just been
filled with a half-cup or so of my thick man-cream. I hope you
share that taste with your wife, wimp, because the only contact
with any pussy, your wife's or anyone else's, that you are going
to get in the future, is when you are sucking a man's cum from
it.
But do you think it's impossible that I could have come so many
times, not only in Mary's various receptacles, but in the pretty
hired help and the neighbors as well? If you won't take Mary's
word for that, I can refer you to a couple of articles in
respected medical journals, in which my sexual equipment has been
written up. The doctors think the size and unusual weight and
density of my testicles is the big factor. Those jewels produce
hundreds of times the amount of sperm and male hormones as the
average man. Which means thousands of times as much as a
sub-sub-average wimp like you.
On the last day, I flew back with Mary on the Gulfstream. To say
that it was a tearful parting when we landed would be an
understatement. She begged me to let her move in with me, even
if only as the lowliest of servants. Every day since she's been
back, I've received at least one letter from her, sometimes two
or three, telling me how much she loves me, begging me to take
her back.
 TAKE MY WIFE |
 FUCK ME |
Poster:
Anonymous