And Don't Come Back

Note: This is a sequel to my story You Should Leave. So many people had requested that I continue the story, so I did. This is not my typical style of story. I tried really hard to redeem Janet and find a way for her and Dave to live happily ever after. Unfortunately, I'd taken her character too far down the road of total slutdom to find a way back.

The result is as close as I've come to a BTB type of story. There are some surprises and twists and lots of hot sex.

Does Dave grow a pair? Read and see.

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Chapter 1

I pushed my cock into my wife's well-fucked pussy. It slid in easily, due in part to how wet she was from the tongue lashing I had just given her, but also from having been fucked nonstop for three days, or so I assumed. Janet gripped my ass cheeks, pulling me into her more deeply, as she lifted her feet and wrapped them around my lower back.

"You like that, Dave?" she asked, moaning softly into my ear as she pulled my head tightly to her ample bosom.

I only grunted as I started thrusting wildly. I was out of control. I'd never felt Janet's pussy this hot, this on fire before. She was grinding her hips and squeezing my ass cheeks roughly, her long nails digging in painfully. At this rate, I knew I would only last a few seconds. I couldn't have that, not after what she'd been doing all weekend. I needed to reclaim her, not just spill my seed weakly into her.

Janet seemed to almost want to me to finish rapidly. She seemed to feel the need to cuddle more than fuck. "It's ok baby," she purred, "you can cum."

Her comment confirmed it. She did not want me to reclaim her, but rather to accept my fate as her cuckold and quickly do my business and be done. It was as if she had resigned herself to the fact that I could not compete with Jared's sexual talents. She smothered me with her loving embrace but seemed convinced that she would only get fucked well by her new stud and my job was just to play cleanup. It was more of a pity fuck than a reclaiming.

I got pissed. I put my hands on Janet's shoulders and pushed hard, forcing myself more upright, breaking free from her grip. She stared at me with a surprised look on her face. I stopped thrusting and looked down at her.

"Not so fast," I snarled. "You're going to have to work for it."

Her eyes seemed to glow, and she grinned. "Oh really?" she asked, rotated her hips wantonly. "You think you've got what it takes?"

I pulled my hips back so that only the head of my cock was still inside her. I didn't have Jared's size, but I was not small by most women's standards. I slammed forward, forcing my cock into her. Janet gasped, then squinted at me.

"Are you trying to impress me?" she asked saucily.

I pulled back again and held cock stationary. I paused looking at my wife. I could see his marks on her body. A hickey on her tit, bruises here and there from being manhandled. I grabbed her massive, plump tits in my hand and squeezed them hard in my fists. She gasped, trying not to cry out and arched her back.

I slammed my cock all the way in, and she shuddered, then lifted her pussy up hard, trying to pump my dick. I immediately pulled back, again. "You think you can top Jared?" she asked, her breath starting to quiver with desire. "You think you can out fuck King Dong?"

I slapped her right breast hard. There was a loud, sharp crack. Her eyes darted open, and she sucked in the air. The red hand print was already forming. The was a slight delay and then the stinging registered on her brain. I felt her pussy flood around my cock.

"You wouldn't dare!" she cried out.

I slapped her left tit, just as hard, making it jerk hard to the right. She winced, then moaned as the burning sensation started to spread. I slammed my cock into her again and pulled back out. She bucked her hips up to meet my thrust but was too late. She whimpered, and her hips shook.

She stared at me, open-mouthed. The dismissive look of overconfidence was gone. It had been replaced with a look of confusion, of doubt, of uncertainty.

She spoke low and breathlessly, "What are you doing?"

I slapped her right breast again, even harder. She squealed and tried to push me off her. I slapped her left tit. "Stop it!" she cried out, "This isn't funny!"

I grabbed her face in my hand and held it tightly. "You are a fucking slut! You're going to get what you deserve!" I slammed my cock in even harder and began to pound her pussy. She tossed her head back, and her heels dug into my ass.

"No!" she screamed, "Get off me!" Her cries were weak and half-hearted. Her struggling was subdued.

"Shut the fuck up!" I snarled then slapped her breasts again. They were glowing red hot with multiple handprints. The burn had to be intense. Tears were welling in her eyes.

"You bastard!" she forced out between sobs.

I grabbed both of her nipples in my fingers and pinched them hard. She screamed out in pain and tried to throw me off her. I pinched harder and twisted. She shrieked.

"Fight back, bitch!" I challenged her, "Do it, and it only gets worse!"

She stared at me as tears ran down the sides of her face into her hair. She tried to speak. Her breath was coming out in short, short pants. I was fucking her hard and fast. She grabbed my hands and tried to pull them off her boobs, but after a couple of seconds, she just held on, giving up.

She bucked her hips wildly, as I pounded her pussy. Her breathing was ragged, and her body was shaking. I recognized the familiar signs and knew she was about to cum.

I jerked my cock out of her cunt suddenly and released her tits. She cried out with disappointment, "No! Don't stop! Fuck me!"

I took her foot in my hands and twisted it hard, forcing her leg to rotate. It hurt, and she reacted by turning her body, in an attempt to end the pressure. Her movement caused her to roll over onto her belly.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she demanded.

My hand cracked down on her ass much harder than it had on her tits. "Owww! You sonofabitch that hurts!"

I slapped her ass again, and she tried to scoot forward, out of my reach. Her hands darted behind her protectively, trying to block my blows. "Move your fucking hands!" I yelled at her. I slapped her between the ass cheeks, right on her taint with loud "Pop!" She gasped and resisted. I slapped her there again shouting, "Move your hands, or I'll spank your god damned cunt!"

She pulled her hands away and clutched the sheets in her fists. I slapped her ass again, admiring how pretty my big hand prints looked as they welled up bright red.

"You were a naughty fucking wife!" I yelled at her. I slapped the other cheek, and her knees gave out, collapsing to the bed.

"Get your ass up, bitch!" I yelled. She was sobbing but lifted up, returning to all fours.

"You were a dirty, naughty fucking slut of a wife!" I yelled. I then gave her a series of slaps to her ass cheeks, alternating back and forth. My hand was burning. She was crying out with each slap and sobbing uncontrollably between them.

"You were a dirty fucking whore," I said as I rubbed her ass cheeks, feeling the heat under my hands. Her hips were shaking violently. "Weren't you?"

She didn't answer. I raised my hand and slapped her ass again with a sharp crack. She jerked and cried out.

"Weren't you?!?" I demanded.

She was crying out loudly. Between sobs, she let out, "Yes, I was!"

I slapped her ass cheeks four more times. Each time she screamed and would collapse. I would wait, and as I did, she lifted her ass back and resumed the position.

"You need to be punished, don't you?" I yelled, rubbing the red welts lightly.

I was about to ask her again, when she moaned out, "Yes, I do!"

"You let him fuck you all weekend, you fucking whore!" I shouted.

"Yes!" she cried out, gasping for air.

I started spanking her, non-stop, strike after strike. She was screaming and gasping. She collapsed, flat on the bed but I kept punishing her. "Are you sorry?" I asked when I stopped spanking her.

She lay there shaking, legs squirming, trying to catch her breath. She shook her head, "No!"

I slapped her ass again, "Get your ass up!"

She struggled to push her body up and onto her knees. "Spread your fucking legs, you slut! You did that all weekend! You know how!"

She spread her legs wider. Her upper body was flat on the bed, but she raised her ass high. Her cunt hung there, open between her legs. I rubbed it with the flat of my hand.

She was on fire and soaking wet.

"Are you a slut?" I asked rubbing her more aggressively. Her hips were bouncing up and down as she tried desperately to get her clit into firmer contact with the heel of my palm.

"Yesssssss," she hissed out slowly.

I slapped her pussy, and she screamed, jerking away. I waited several seconds as the pain turned to burn. She shuddered and pushed her hips back, forcing her cunt to open even more.

"Are you my slut? Are you my slut or Jared's slut?" I demanded!

She was shaking so much it looked as if she were wiggling. When she didn't answer me fast enough, I slapped her pussy again. She let out an intense, resonating moan. I rubbed her harder. She was shaking, and I pulled my hand away, breaking contact just before she erupted in orgasm. She let out a wail of frustration and disappointment.

"Are you my slut or Jared's?" I asked again.

"Mmmm," she moaned, "yours."

I spanked her pussy, and she cried out louder, "Yours! I'm your slut!"

"Repeat it!" I slapped her pussy and rubbed.

"I'm your fucking slut! Only yours!" She started cumming. I let her. I rubbed her pussy hard and fast as her juices flowed out hotly around my hand. I smeared them into her, and she must have sensed how different it felt. It was like someone was pouring hot tea on her cunt. She came even harder, her voice a mixture of crying, sobbing, laughing and groaning.

I moved behind her, knelt between her legs and shoved my cock into her all the way. "Oh god, yes!" She screamed, "Fuck me, Dave! Fuck meeee."

I held her hips and pounded her cunt as violently, as powerfully and as rapidly as I could. Her orgasm didn't seem to stop. It just transformed and kept going. She was wailing, continuously, with the pitch rising and falling in rhythm to my thrusts, punctuated with a staccato grunt each time the head of my cock hit her cervix.

I don't know how long I fucked her. It seemed to go on and on. In my mind, I kept seeing the look on her face as Jared's cock penetrated her. I saw her look at me and I kept hearing her voice say "You should leave." Each time I heard it, I slammed into her harder. I fucked and fucked and fucked. I pounded her pussy. I abused her pussy. I wanted to fuck Jared out of her memory, out of mine. But, each time I thrust I heard her say it, "You should leave."

I knew. I would not be able to cum.

I could feel my energy starting to fade.

I looked down at her body. I knew she'd been on her knees like this with Jared's big black cock pounding her pussy into submission.

"Reclaim me!" she shrieked! "Claim my pussy! Oh, God! Oh, God!"

I felt pleasure surge up inside me.

"Oh, God! I'm sorry!" she screamed, and I felt something inside me let go. My pleasure rose up higher. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Dave!" She was cumming again, and she was crying.

I thrust deep and screamed. I never felt anything so powerful. I cried and screamed and screamed. My voice burned from the violence of my outburst. My entire body tensed and began to convulse violently. Wave after wave of the most intense orgasm just completely overpowered me. I just was the orgasm. I came over and over. Cum shot into her pussy. Long, thick, potent ropes of sperm shooting into her womb, splashing on her cervix.

"Yes! Oh, Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me! Cum in me!" she shrieked. A continuous stream of obscenities burst from her.

My arms were spread out wide to my sides, like Jesus on the cross. My head leaning way back, my gaze looking heavenward. My body shook and pulsed with each successive wave of orgasm. I was no longer moving, no longer breathing. I was inside my wife's womb, my cock holding us together, connecting us.

Then the energy was gone. Janet collapsed flat. My cock slid out, and I fell to the side, gasping for air. We both lay there, unmoving for a long time. After several minutes, Janet slowly inched her way to me, draped her arm over my body and kissed me on the forehead.

She whispered, "I love you, Dave. Thank you for saving me."

We fell asleep, completely exhausted.

Chapter 2

At some point, I woke up. Janet curled up next to me as I spooned her. She was snoring very softly. I carefully extricated myself, without waking her and got out of the bed. I covered her naked body with the comforter, then slipped out of the room and went to the kitchen.

I dropped three ice cubes into a glass and poured myself a stiff double-shot of Buffalo Trace bourbon. I sat on a barstool, staring into the pattern of the ice and whiskey in my glass as I slowly spun the ice cubes.

Janet had left me. She was with another man for three days. She never texted me. She never called me. She made no attempt to contact me and seemed to have been too busy being fucked to even care that I might not be okay with what she was doing. Maybe I was worried that she'd been murdered or drugged and forced into prostitution. She didn't seem concerned or to have any guilt.

I knew I was partially to blame. I had pushed Janet to try the threesome. I'd never agreed to be cuckolded or to have her spend an entire weekend being fucked by who knows how many men, without me. With a clear conscience, I realized my guilt ended the minute she said, "You should leave," and hers began.

We had agreed to a threesome.

We'd had a threesome. It had at least started out that way. Everything was fine until I was no longer a part of it. When it changed from being two men trying to please her, to her excluding me and giving herself to another man, it stopped being a threesome. Her selfish, slutty actions violated our rules and our agreement. To compound it, when I tried to stop it, she told me to leave.

She told me, her husband, to leave so she could fuck another man.

She rejected me.

She chose Jared. King Dong. It just seemed so out of character for her.

Maybe I could have handled her fucking him, once. Perhaps if she had said, "let him finish" or "just this once" or something like that. Even if she'd said "wait outside," I would have been mad, but I kind of deserved it. Maybe I would have been alright. Perhaps if instead of shutting me out, she had reached for my cock to blow me while he fucked her, I would have been drawn back into the threesome. There were a hundred different ways this could have all worked out well and one way for it to go to shit.

Maybe.

I will never know because I never got any of those options. Janet told me to leave her alone with this stranger at his house so that he could fuck her one-on-one. That was never discussed, planned or even considered, at least not by me. This is on her.

Sure, I get that she was drunk with from both alcohol and her burning lust. I understand what sexual energy can do to your rational thinking. I could almost bring myself to accept that she was lost "in the moment" as this new man, with his new cock, penetrated her. I get the excitement, the desire, the need. I understand that. I could probably forgive that.

What I couldn't get was how did it go on for three days. That changed it from a single act of passion, of loss of control, into the most significant act of infidelity and betrayal you could imagine. I could almost forgive that first momentary loss of willpower, the need to be fucked and see it through to the end. What I could not excuse was that Janet stayed with him, fucking him, for three days.

At some point Friday night, she had to have stopped fucking. Her brain had to have cleared from her sex coma. At some point, she had to have realized I was no longer there at the house. She had to have understood why I returned home alone. She had to have realized that she had gone from having a threesome with me and some unknown sperm donor to having a three-day affair with Jared and whoever else was there.

Why didn't she stop? Why didn't she get up, grab an Uber and come home? Maybe, if she had come back Friday night, and apologized to me for having lost her head, I would have forgiven her. Perhaps I would have been able to accept it. It would have sucked, but it was not unreasonable under the circumstances. We could have gotten through that. I'm pretty sure of it. Maybe even if she came home Saturday morning. We could have gone to counseling and worked it out over time.

But, she stayed for two more days. She slept with Jared. She woke up with him. She spent the day with him fucking him. She fucked all day and night again and slept with him a second time. She woke up with him and spent the third day with him, fucking, time after time. Where were her thoughts for me? Where were her feelings for us, our marriage, our future?

How the fuck did she ever think that was acceptable? How could she possibly have thought I would tolerate it and forgive it? She had to have known she had thrown away our marriage. Was it so good that she couldn't leave his house for three fucking days? Was it so good that she would throw me and our wedding vows away just to get fucked a little?

Was it worth it?

I finished the bourbon and poured another glass. I felt sick. I couldn't get it out of my mind. I couldn't get over it.

I heard a beep.

I drained the glass of whiskey and added more. I needed ice. As I went to get some, I heard another beep. It was coming from the little built-in desk next to the refrigerator. I dropped a couple of ice cubes in the glass, and there was another beep. I moved to the desk and found the tablet laying there. That was the source of the beeps.

I picked it up and logged in. It beeped again. It was Skype that was beeping. I opened the app, and my heart dropped to the floor. There was an active chat, indicated by a little green dot. Next to it was a name. Jared.

Skype has a helpful feature. You can use it on multiple devices. If you do, it synchronizes the chats you have across all your devices. So, apparently at this very moment, Janet was upstairs having a conversation with Jared. Everything they said was echoed here to the tablet in real time. Not only that but any files they sent, pictures they shared, etc., would be repeated to this device and displayed to me.

I tapped on Jared's name, opening the active chat. Immediately, the screen updated to show their conversation. The messages kept updating and scrolling up the screen.

Janet: I don't know. He's not in the bedroom or bathroom. I think he's downstairs.

Jared: So did you get him to try to claim you back like I told you to?

Janet: Yeah, I did

Jared: And?

Janet: And, after he sucked out all your cum like a good little cuckold, he fucked me and tried to reclaim me.

Jared: And?

Janet: And, what do you think?

Jared: Epic fail

Janet: Yeah, poor thing.

Jared: Did you let him think he succeeded?

Janet: Of course. Now, he'll be happy and will let us play more without any problems.

Jared: You told him we're coming over on Friday?

Janet: Yeah, he didn't take it too well. I'll work on that. It will be fine. By the time you guys get here, I'll have him ready to serve you dinner and drinks, then fluff your dicks hard so you can fuck his wife better.

Jared: You're such a wicked woman.

Janet: You have no idea.

Jared: I can't believe he never figured out about Steve.

Janet: ROFL. To figure things out, you have to have reason to suspect they're not what you think.

Jared: Five minutes is all it would have taken to know the guy was only in Alaska for a three-month trip and has been back fucking you regularly ever since.