Cum, wifey

Michelle tapped my back. It was obvious she wanted the hug to end already.

I gave her sexy body one more squeeze, and then released her. She looked a bit annoyed.

“Are you done now?”

“Yeah. Thanks. So what do you wanna do tonight, dear? Netflix and chill?”

Hopefully she understood that I was fully enveloping myself to the roleplay she had just instituted. She better appreciate it.

“Um… No. It’s… We have to talk.”

“Talk? About what?”

“Look, what I’m about to tell you is going to be really, really tough for you to hear. So…”

I put my hand over Michelle’s head, and softly caressed her hair.

“It’s okay. You can tell me anything, love.”

Michelle was growing a bit flustered. In her mind she, didn’t expect this kind of physical contact while she laid out the harsh truth to me. It was very distracting, to say the least.

“It’s… look… Can you remove your hand, Jack? You’re making this harder.”

“Oh yeah, babe. You’re making me harder, too,” I said while once again pulling her head towards my lips. This time she was slippery enough to escape my grip, and stood up.

“Jack! Stop that! I… I can’t do that anymore! …You see, I’m… I’m gay!”

After few seconds of silence, I burst out laughing.

“Yeah right! That’s the best excuse I’ve heard in a while. Come here, and let’s test exactly how gay you are.”

“Jack! I don’t know why you’re behaving like an asshole right now, but you need to listen to me! I’m serious!”

With that, my face got serious as well. I stood up, and walked over to her.

Michelle could tell that something was off. She backed towards the wall.

In a matter of moments I had closed in on her. Her head touched the wall, and she had nowhere to run to.

I was practically pinning her against the wall.

She was frightened, but tried her best not to show it.

Then I surprised her with a smile.

“You poor woman. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you’re as straight as they come. Has the TV messed up your pretty little head?”

“W-What? What the fuck are you talking about, Jack? And you never behaved like that before!”

“Me? You’re the one making up stories about being a rugmuncher.”

“EXCUSE ME? WHAT DID YOU SAY?” Boy, her nostrils were flaring now.

“Enough with the make-believe. You’re my perfect little housewife. You make my dinner, clean my house and warm my bed with your tight little body. And I know you love it. You’re no disgusting… dyke.”

Michelle definitely never did any of those three things. But hey, while we were time traveling, I just traveled in time and changed those things as well. Surprisingly easy.

In this universe I was the overbearing husband who trained his wife into a perfect little **** she was always meant to be.

And I was kinda enjoying it. A lot.

Michelle blinked several times, trying to get a grip on the insane things I was saying. She looked deep into my eyes, as if trying to find the cause for my mental instability.

“…Oh my God. Something’s deeply wrong with you. This was a bad idea.”

“What? I really have to prove it to you? Fine.”

With no warning, I grabbed the waistline of her jeans, and stuffed my hand down her pants. It all happened too fast for her to react.

I placed my palm over her pussy.

And squeezed.

She gasped in absolute shock.

I locked into her eyes. She fearfully locked into mine.

“Cum, wifey.”

Just like that, it started. She could clearly tell something was happening in her body, and I could see the panic in her eyes. That didn’t last for long though, as the pleasure took control over every sense she had. Her horrified gasp turned into a sexual moan in less than three seconds. She could feel the orgasm building up in her knees, in her stomach, even in her face. Her eyes rolled back, and she grabbed my pussy-squeezing hand for support. She gyrated on my hand like it was some sort of a weird dancing ritual. I think she was trying to form words, but it came out as a garbled mess.

“JAAAACCCJJJKKAJKLAAAAAAAAHGGHH!!!!!”

All those weeks of blockage. All those hours of trying everything humanly possible with Maddy. All those moments of self doubt and desperation. All those hours spent on the internet trying to find out what was wrong with her.

All that was needed, was just my manly hand on her pussy.

A hand that was getting really wet from all of her squirting. Squirting that began as only a trickle, but was now a full-on waterfall. I still kept my hand locked tight on her cunt. The poor woman trashed and swung all over the place. If I let go, she might even accidentally hurt herself. No, her embarrassing ministrations were all happening over my iron grip. All over the hand of her humiliated ex-husband.

I wonder how her brain was processing all of this. Or even if she could currently think at all.

Then it was over. I tenderly released my grip, and she slumped on the floor, wetting both her jeans and her white V-neck with the juice that had already dripped on the ground.

I wiped my hand on her sofa. Let her smell those memories for weeks to come.

She was panting and slowly began gripping her pussy. How the Hell could something like that just happen? Had her body broken down? Did she have a disease? As she opened her eyes, it must have felt like the whole world had been through a huge seismic shock in a matter of seconds and nothing was the same again.

I hovered over her, smiling.

“Well, I’m no expert, but I’d guess that’s not how a lesbian reacts to a man’s hand.”

She tried to get angry, but was still emotionally and physically too shocked over what just happened.

“Wh… What…. What the…”

“I bet you came up with this whole scheme just to make me touch you again, right? You little scamp,” I said as I scuffled her hair.

“Jack… I… this…” she wasn’t able to make sentences with even two words anymore.

“You want more? Fine. If I remember correctly, you especially like this one.”

I pulled open her V-neck. She had no strength to stop me, as I pulled out both of her perfect-sized tits through the stretched neckhole. I pulled down her bra, and saw the pink nipples that used to belong to my wife. I had missed them dearly.

I placed my fingers on her nipples. I squeezed them, and then twisted them like I was starting up a car.

“Cum, wifey.”

Once again, I could see the panic. It was a little different this time. Now she knew what was going to happen next, which made the experience both more terrifying and exciting than the one before. Her eyes rolled back as the shout of pain turned into a cry of pleasure.

“STAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHPPPPPPPPPPPPP!! AAAAhhhhhhh…”

She convulsed on the floor, dripping through her jeans as she violently thrusted up and down on an invisible dick. It was quite an enjoyable sight to see my lesbian ex-wife doing that.

She definitely didn’t deserve all of this pleasure. But I was going hardcore. And not that I had a better plan. I could institute so much pleasure into her little brain that she would turn into putty on my hands later on. Right now she was on a never-ending pleasure train, that had barely even left the station.

“That really made you cum, didn’t it? You little masochist.”

She couldn’t answer me, just huffed like she had ran a marathon.

“It was quite mean though. Lying to me about being a lesbian. Don’t you think?”

“…impossible….” she muttered to herself on the floor.

“Come on now. Apologize to me for your childish little lie.”

She turned to me, still lying in a puddle of her own making. Her eyes were pleading.

“It’s… Fuck you…”

“That’s it. I’ve had it with your attitude.”

Yup. It was time to spank another arrogant bitch. And this particular one was in the all-time top tiers.

I sat on the sofa, and pulled her broken-down body laid across my lap.

She tried to put up a fight, but I could easily handle it.

I had been dreaming of this day for years.

Some stuff you think will never come true and just stay locked in the back of your head, for your personal spank bank.

I was beginning to appreciate the fact that the whole world was now turning into my personal spank bank.

Specially this moment.

I pulled down her jeans, and her bare ass was in plain view. Just as I remembered it. Like a beautiful pale peach.

“…Let… Go off me… Fucker!”

“Oh dear. I don’t want my wifey using such foul language. Now I’m going to spank extra hard. But I know you’re a masochist. So you are going to cum after each spank.”

She turned her head in panic.

“Wait, what?”

SPANK!

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!! Oh God, no, not…. againaaaaaaaaaahhhh”

SPANK!

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseAAAAHHHHHHH”

SPANK!

“HUAAAAAHUAAAHANONONONOHUAAAAa aaaaaahaahaaaaaa….”

SPANK!

“JESUSCHRISTJESUSCHRISTNONOTAGAINFUCKFUCKFUCKAAAAAHHHHH”

Had to say, she was letting out the most interesting sounds I’d ever hear from a spankee. But then again, nobody had cum as much as she had in such a short time. That was the sixth orgasm already. Yes, my knee and the sofa were already wet, but not as wet as the floor was. She was still cumming, but beginning to run dry.

Bonnie had passed out after five orgasms. I wondered how long could Michelle last.

SPANK!

“AAA AAAA AAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA fck no fck noo aahhhhhh….”

Yeah, I think the lights were already growing dimmer. I should wrap this up.

I couldn’t end it without getting at least some points.

“Admit you’re not a lesbian and I’ll stop.”

Yeah, she was heading into the twilight territory. She could only let out a pathetic little “pfffrttttt..” through her lips.

Let’s give her one more wake-up call.

SPANK!

“AAAAAA! IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY PLEASE AAAAAhhhh…” (MICHELLE: +15SP) (+26SP)

“Sorry about what?”

“imnotalesbianimnotalesbianimnotalsbn…” (MICHELLE: +2SP) (+28SP)

That’s it. If she hadn’t passed out already, she was about to.

Sorry girl, but I can’t let you drift off yet.

I texted Maddy and told her it was okay to come back now.