An Unexpected Night of Humiliation

Five hours ago, Roger arrived home from work to find the house empty. That wasn't entirely unusual, but the lack of a text or even a handwritten note from his wife was unusual.

"Where are you?" he'd texted after a thorough search of the house yielded only a small pile of clothes - seemingly the outfit she'd worn to work - on the bedroom floor.

"I went out," Kelly had replied.

He'd waited for more information - such as when she thought she'd be home - but Kelly offered nothing, prompting another text from Roger.

"When will you be back?"

"Late," was all she'd said.

It's nearly midnight when a car pulls into the driveway. Roger gets up from the couch and looks out the window that surveys their considerable lawn, the driveway, and the street of their rather quiet suburban neighborhood. The car has a lit-up Lyft sign on the windshield and a woman - Kelly, presumably - gets out of the backseat. She waves at the driver and then heads for the front door.

It's dark, but from what he can tell, the woman is wearing a black leather skirt, high heels, and a tight white top that highlights her breasts. It can't be Kelly. She doesn't dress like that. He's fairly certain she doesn't even own clothing like that.

It is Kelly, though. That becomes clear as she steps onto the porch. It's also clear that she's had a bit to drink that night. Roger rushes for the front door and opens it before she has a chance to slip her key in the lock.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

She smiles as Roger takes note of the fact that her hair looks a little messier than he would have expected. The same could be said for her makeup. Her smile is genuine, though, so any worry of something horrible having unfolded while she was out washes away.

"I'm better than okay," Kelly replies. "So much better."

She steps into the house and into his arms. They kiss and do so with such depth that it catches Roger off guard. He's not entirely sure he likes the kiss at first, in fact, but Kelly moans as her tongue does wondrous things in his mouth and he can't help but get caught up in what feels like her desire. Suddenly, his cock is hard and his body is demanding that he bring his wife to their bedroom so he can fuck her.

Roger takes her hand and pulls her towards the staircase, but Kelly doesn't move. He looks back and sees what he's fairly certain is annoyance on her face.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"You think I want to fuck you?"

He's taken aback by the aggression in her voice. "Oh, well, I just thought...the kiss...it did make me think you were interested. Plus, you know, sometimes when you've had a few drinks you get...well, hornier than usual."

Kelly smiles. "That's true. I do. And I definitely had a few drinks tonight. More than a few, in fact."

Roger's not sure what to say. There's something about Kelly's demeanor that has him feeling a bit nervous.

"Do you want to fuck me, Roger?" she asks.

He nods.

"Is it because you like my outfit?"

"I do. Is it new?"

Kelly nods and bites her lower lip in a remarkably seductive manner. "I got a lot of attention in this outfit."

He stares. He's not sure what to say.

"Attention from men, Roger. Men that wanted me."

Something's wrong. She's never like this. This isn't Kelly.

"Come here," she instructs.

Roger walks towards his wife. She pulls him close and kisses him again. She guides his hands to her tits and then to her ass. His cock gets hard as their tongues swirl, as he gropes her, as he feels the warm leather against her ass, as he imagines fucking her. He's confused, but he's thoroughly aroused, too.

"Do you want me?" Kelly whispers.

"Yes."

"Good. Now get on your knees and kiss my toes, Roger."

"What?"

He steps back and looks at her toes. Her heels leave them fully exposed and her nails are painted an alluring shade of red that he's just noticed matches her lipstick.

"Get on your knees, Roger," she says with remarkable force.

"What? Why?"

"Because it's what I want. Now do it."

This isn't Kelly. This isn't how she behaves. There's something intriguing about it, though. Something a little bit irresistible. So, despite his misgivings, Roger falls to his knees.

Her smile feels unexpected. She inches one of her feet forward. Roger notes how sexy her footwear is. "Kiss my foot, Roger. Soft kisses. Lots of them."

He leans forwards. His hands press into the cool tile of the foyer. His lips fall to his wife's foot. He kisses her skin. He feels deeply self-conscious while doing so, but he continues to kiss her feet as she instructed.

"Now my toes," she says. "All five of them. Then I'll offer you my other foot."

He kisses her toes. She offers her other foot. He showers it in kisses. Some of the self-consciousness fades, though not entirely. Roger's not sure he would ever feel comfortable kissing his wife's feet in that manner.

"Sit back and take your cock out," she demands.

Roger sits up and looks at her. He's not sure he's ever admired his wife from this vantage point and she looks quite good as she stares down at him. Her arms are crossed. Her face is set quite seriously.

"Do as you're told," she says.

Roger unzips his pants. He frees his cock. It's half hard and he can feel the teeth of the zipper gently pressing into his flesh.

"Masturbate."

"What?"

There's a flash of anger on her face. It scares him. He takes his cock in his hand and masturbates. He's not sure what's going on, but he's just curious enough to do as she desires, especially since touching his cock feels so good.

She watches him masturbate and says, "Stop," after what feels like less than a minute.

Kelly extends her foot and uses her big toe to collect the drop of precum at the tip of his cock.

"Lick it up," she demands.

Roger stares at her toe. The tip glistens with his fluid. He keeps staring. His wife has never issued a demand like the one that just left her lips - nor any of the others she's issued tonight - and he's confused and growing increasingly nervous, though she continues to stoke the intrigue that leapt to existence the moment he saw her exit the Lyft.

"Do it, Roger," she says.

He leans down. He licks his precum from her toe.

"Pathetic."

Roger feels something unexpected as that single word rains down on him. He feels a shock of arousal. He feels it spread outwards from his cock and balls. He feels his loins tingle in a manner he quite enjoys.

"Masturbate."

Roger sits up and resumes stroking his cock, except it feels better now. He can't explain why, but the same action of moving his hand up and down his dick feels better than it did just a few minutes ago.

Kelly lifts her foot and rubs the underside of the tip of her heel over his cock. She leans back, balances herself against the door, and holds up her foot. Roger can see his precum on the black of her heel.

"Lick it up," she demands.

He's still masturbating. Her tone is both threatening and oddly enthralling. He looks up at her. It's not resistance that he feels, though. It's a fear of judgment. He wants to lick his precum off her shoe. He just doesn't want her to think of him as a freak for doing so.

"I know you want to," Kelly says. "Do it, Roger. Be the pathetic man we both know you are. Lick your precum off the bottom of your wife's fucking shoe."

He feels the arousal again. Kelly seems angry at him and that's worrisome, but Roger can't help the desire that is now coursing through his body. He leans forward. He licks his precum from the bottom of her shoe. It tastes awful. His dick throbs in his hand. His stroking feels better.

Kelly's foot falls to the ground and she steps closer and grabs a fistful of his hair. She's gentle, but he can feel a touch of pain as she pulls back until he's staring straight up at her.

"Men were interested in me tonight, Roger. Lots of men. Young men. Men my age. Older men. It was nice to be desired. It was nice to be touched."

"What?" he asks as his chest tightens from a sudden onset of panic.

"When a man is interested in a woman at a club, he asks her to dance with him. When a woman is interested in that man, she agrees to dance with him. When two people dance, they touch each other. If there's chemistry, they touch each other quite a bit, Roger."

"Men...men touched you?"

Kelly smiles. "They did, Roger. I danced with a handful of men tonight. I couldn't help myself. They asked and I said yes. I moved my body with theirs. I let their hands wander over me. I let them touch me as they desired, and I touched them too, of course."

Roger can't remember the last time he took Kelly out for a night of dancing. It wasn't really something that married people did.

It's at that moment that Roger notices that Kelly isn't wearing her rings. He stares at the finger they're supposed to be on, the finger they're always on.

"Where are your rings?" he asks.

She holds up her hand, looks at it, and smiles. "Oh, I guess I must have forgotten to put them back on after I showered. Silly me."

Roger is certain she's lying. Kelly had gone out without her rings on purpose. She had to have.

"Stand up," she says.

He stands and Kelly wraps her fingers around his cock. She kisses him and does so with such depth that it nearly takes Roger's breath away. She steps back with a smile - a bright, naughty smile - on her face.

"Yours isn't the only cock my fingers have touched tonight," she says.

Roger is taken aback, but he restrains his desire to move away from his wife and do so at as rapid a pace as possible. She's holding onto his cock, after all, and it would probably hurt quite a bit to break free from her grasp.

"What?" he asks.

Kelly falls to her knees, taking Roger by surprise. His cock enters her mouth. She sucks on the head and he moans from the sudden rush of pleasure he feels. She strokes him, too, and she maintains eye contact the entire time.

"Yours isn't the only cock that's been in my mouth tonight," she says.

This time, Roger steps back and Kelly immediately stands. She moves towards him with incredible pace and he backs away until he slams into the wall. Her fingers are around his dick once more and now she strokes him swiftly, using her saliva and his precum as lube.

"Your wife sucked another man's cock tonight, Roger. She got on her knees for him. She took him in her mouth. She sucked his dick while looking up at him. Your wife cheated on you. Isn't that humiliating?"

It clicks. It all clicks. Roger can't believe he didn't realize what was happening. He can't believe he didn't see what she was doing, mostly because he can't believe his wife would actually do what she's doing.

"Kelly...this isn't...this isn't what I was talking about."

"No? Are you sure, Roger? You said you wanted me to humiliate you. You said it would turn you on. You said that you fantasize about it, that nothing turns you on quite like the idea of me humiliating you." She strokes him faster and Roger moans despite himself. "I'd say it worked, Roger. Your dick is harder than it's been in years. I made you kiss my feet. I made you lick your fucking precum off my shoes. I told you that I danced with other men. I told you that I stroked someone's dick. I told you that I sucked someone's dick. I did all of it because my husband is a pathetic fucking bitch who wants his wife to humiliate him so he can get off."

"Please...stop."

Kelly releases his cock and steps back. She unzips her skirt and it falls to the floor. She steps out of it and Roger stares between her legs. She's wearing blue panties with lace trim. They're soaked. He can see the wet spot. It's not small.

"Admit it," she says. "This is what you want. This is what you fucking crave, Roger."

He shakes his head and she steps closer.

"Get on your fucking knees," she says.

He shakes his head and she slaps him across the face.

"On your fucking knees, you pathetic bitch."

Roger's dick is so hard it hurts. He doesn't want to admit that Kelly's right, because this isn't what he meant when he confessed a desire for erotic humiliation. He wanted something milder, like a handjob where she tells him that she'd rather not have his cock inside her that night because he's not quite big enough to satisfy her.

He falls to his knees. Kelly grabs a handful of his hair and pulls his face between her legs. "Smell it," she says.

Roger's nose is against her panties as he inhales. He figures he won't smell anything, but he does. He looks up at her. "Did you have sex?"

"I got fucked, Roger."

His thighs tremble. His mind goes blank. His vision gets blurry for a few moments. "Wait? What?"

"His cock was big, too. Much bigger than yours. He's the one I stroked. The one I sucked. The one I told to take me back to his place so he could fuck me with his big cock."

Roger feels dizzy. He closes his eyes to try and calm down, but the dizziness gets worse. Kelly slaps him across the face and his eyes fly open.

"I cucked you, Roger," she says. "With someone bigger and better. Someone that actually fucked me far better than you do, better than you have in years. I made your sick little humiliation fantasy come true, Roger. I can still feel him inside me, in fact. He stretched me so good with that big dick of his. And he didn't just fuck me once, by the way. He fucked me three times. He came three times. I came half a dozen times. I had the best sex of my life tonight, Roger, while you were at home like a little bitch. I got fucked by a real man while my pervert of a husband waited for me, texting every once in a while to ask where I am and having no idea that I was out getting my cunt filled by a gorgeous, big-dicked guy ten years younger than me."

It feels like she just slapped him a dozen times. Instead, she'd merely laid bare just how thorough she'd been in working to humiliate him while she was gone. Kelly had done a great deal of work in five hours and a part of him is impressed.

"I think it's time for us to go upstairs," she says.

Roger stands wordlessly. He follows his wife upstairs, staring at her ass the entire time. He notes that it looks a bit red and he wonders if the guy she fucked laid his hands on her backside during their tryst. He wonders if Kelly liked it.

"Did he spank you?" he asks without thinking.

"He did," she replies at the top of the stairs. "It felt good. Really good, in fact. It feels good when a man - a real man, unlike you - spanks me during sex. I forgot how much I liked it, to be honest."

"I could spank you."

She laughs. "You could, but it wouldn't feel good, Roger. You're not a real man. You're a fucking cuck. A bitch. A little sissy. You're the one that deserves the spanking."

His cock throbs. He hates himself for being so turned on. He likes that he's so turned on, though. It's the strangest night of his life.

"Get naked," Kelly instructs as they enter the bedroom.

Roger strips and she guides him to the bed and pushes him onto his back. She stands bedside and takes his cock in her hand. His shaft is slick and she strokes him with ease while holding his gaze.

"You are pathetic, Roger," she says. "Your fantasy is pathetic. The fact that your dick is hard as a rock even though I fucked another man is pathetic."

She seems serious and annoyed with him. Perhaps even angry. Roger holds out hope that she's putting on a show, though, that she committed to making his fantasy come true in the most over the top manner and she's not going to take her foot off the gas until he's had an orgasm.

"I want you," he replies.

Kelly smiles.

"I want to be inside you. I want to fuck you."

She laughs. "Too bad."

His cock throbs.

"Even if my pussy wasn't sore from the pounding it took tonight I wouldn't let you inside me, Roger. You don't deserve to fuck me. You're pathetic. Your cock doesn't deserve to be anywhere near my pussy. So dream the fuck on."

He wants her even more now, but he refrains from asking again.

"I'll bet you'd like to taste me, wouldn't you?" she asks. "I'll bet that's something a pathetic man like you would enjoy. Tasting his wife's cunt after someone else fucked it."

"Yes, please," he answers. Any sense of shame has left him. Roger is pure desire now.

Kelly laughs again and crawls into the bed. She straddles his chest. He can smell the sex from a foot away. It's incredible. He closes his eyes and inhales. A moment later his wife sits on his face. She lowers her pussy to his mouth. He opens his eyes and sees her smiling devilishly down at him. He puts his tongue inside her.

"You fucking love it, don't you?"

He nods as best he can.

"You're so much more pathetic than I thought, Roger. I mean, I've always know you weren't a great lover, but that was always okay because you're good enough and you're an exceptional husband. This, though, this is something else. This is the kind of thing that makes a woman reconsider the man she married. I mean, you're as turned on as you've ever been and it's entirely because someone else's cock spent a great deal of time in my pussy tonight."

He nods again.

Kelly reaches down and grabs a handful of his hair. She rocks her hips back and forth over his mouth. She rides his tongue and moans gleefully. Then, to Roger's complete and utter surprise, she has an orgasm. A long, beautiful orgasm.

When she's finished, Kelly releases her grip on his hair, slides back, and spins around. She backs up once more and lowers her ass onto his face. Her fingers encircle his cock and she begins to stroke him.

"Put your tongue in my ass, you pathetic bitch."

Roger does as she desires and Kelly strokes him faster. She tightens her grip. He moans while tongue fucking her asshole. He feels his balls tighten. He feels his desire build. He feels his orgasm coming.

Roger cums. He can't see his cock, but it feels like a fountain of cum has erupted as his shaft pulses in his wife's hand and his loins contract and loosen in that massively pleasurable way that makes a man want to pursue a good orgasm at any cost.

His body relaxes beneath his wife as the pleasure of his orgasm dissipates. Kelly lifts her ass from his face and crawls off of him. Roger looks down to see cum splattered all over his stomach and upper thighs.

"Thank you," he says as she sits on his knees next to his prone body and surveys the splashes of cum.

"You're welcome," Kelly replies, though her face is unreadable.

A few moments of silence pass between them before Roger asks, "Did you really do that...did you really have sex with someone tonight?"

She looks at him and nods. "Every word I uttered was true, Roger, including the parts about you being pathetic."

Kelly gets out of bed and heads for the bathroom.

"What's going to happen?" he calls after her.

She stops and looks over her shoulder. "I'm not sure yet, but at the moment I'm leaning towards staying with you. I think I might like being married to a pathetic man. At the very least I'm going to take full advantage of being able to fuck anyone I want, whenever I want, and I imagine I'll enjoy sitting on your face and feeding you the taste of sex each time I do it. We'll see, though. If you prove too pathetic I'll kick you out, so maybe work a little harder to get promoted at work and do a little more around the house."

She walks into the bathroom, shuts the door, and stars the shower. Roger stares at the ceiling. He tells himself that he'd debating whether or not he wants to be in the kind of marriage his wife succinctly described, but there's no debate needed. Roger wants it. He craves it.

She's right, after all. He is pathetic and he loves it.