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From: "storyace" <storyace@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} burning love M/F cuckold, voy, etc.
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Date: Thu, 30 Sep 2004 15:10:02 -0400
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Burning love, M/F, cuckold, voy M/F by Ace

Author: storyace, ace

Title: burning love

Part: 1 of 1

Summary: A man looses everything, and then even his wife. But all
is not lost

Keywords: cuckold, M/F, voy, older

 I'd very much like to hear opinions about it, good, bad, or
other.

Thanks, Ace

The rest of my stories are at;
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/aceinthe_hole/www// and;
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/aceinthe_hole/   [in plain text]

Please send comments to; storyace@hotmail.com

Burning love;

I was born and grew up in Milton.

It's a small town; not so small that everyone knows everyone, but
small enough that most people know most people.

When I married Donna, she was 22 and I was 35.  But I'd known her
since she was a kid.

She was a beauty; there weren't many beauties in Milton, not
available ones anyway.  I was a fairly eligible bachelor myself,
since I'd inherited the general store from my dad. I'm no Brad
Pitt, but I'm not unattractive to the ladies.  I'm of medium
height, in good health, and I'm told I have "penetrating eyes". I
was one of the small percentage of people who had enough in our
depressed area.  I wasn't wealthy by city standards, but in
Milton, I was a bigshot.

Donna had been around; she lived with Earle for a couple of
years, and then with Ethan for a while.  It was like that in our
town, not only did most people know most people, half of them had
slept with half of them at some point.

I remember the night we first made love; the night I picked her
up.

I'd been waiting for her to break up with Ethan, and then when
she did I was looking out for her.  Well, I guess most of the
guys in town were.

Anyway, she walked into the bar [we only have one bar].  It was
summertime, and she was dressed in a flimsy cotton frock.  Her
eyes scanned the room, and stopped at me.  She smiled; I smiled
back.

As I said, I'd known her since she was a little girl.  I'd
flirted with her since she was 17; we sat together at the back
table.

I knew we were going to sleep together; it was all in her eyes on
that first glance. She had come down to look for me. I'd been
waiting for her. These things are never said aloud, but that was
how it was.

Donna was slim with medium-sized breasts.  Her ass was perfect,
her legs wonderful, her hair lustrous, and her face the most
beautiful in town.  We were both single; the first time we had
both been available at once.  We flirted and drank, as our
friends and neighbors watched and envied us.  When we left
together, we knew what everyone would be saying and thinking;
Donna's gone home with Wade.

Neither of us knew whether it would work out of course; we went
back to my place to enjoy some nice recreational sex, both of us
keeping an open mind. Yes, I was considerably older than Donna,
but Ethan [whom she'd just split up with] was a decade older than
I was.

We kissed for the first time outside my front door.  I was
surprised how excited I was; I'd been with a few women by then,
but I'd wanted Donna for a long time.  I took her hand and led
her upstairs to my apartment over the store.

As I said, she wasn't wearing much.  Her body was beautiful, but
it was her eyes that captivated me.  Holding her slim body in my
arms, her firm young breasts pressed against my chest, was the
most exciting thing had that ever happened to me, actually; I
hadn't realized how much I'd wanted her.  Even in the heat of our
first lovemaking, I couldn't help but wonder if she would stay
with me, and if so, for how long.

Her fingers tracing across my bare chest were icy hot; she cooked
me and chilled me.  Her hair was thick, healthy, styled, and
brown.  Her skin was pale and perfect.  Her hands and feet were
soft, small, and flawlessly manicured.  She was a touch of
sophistication in this hick town, a purebred amongst the
mongrels.

We kissed on my sofa, holding hands. Her mouth was soft and
sweet. We were in no hurry, we took our time, enjoying the thrill
of our first time together.

I had to stop from time to time just to look at her; she was that
pretty, a prize worth waiting for.

Item by item, our clothes fell to the floor, until we were naked.

Her body was flawless; her skin glowed with the luster of her
youth and my infatuation. Her breasts stood full and proud, large
for her small frame. I kissed her nipples and stroked her back,
my hands seeming suddenly rough and crude in contrast to Donna's
fineness.

Still sitting on the couch, her hands went to my stiff cock; a
warm wave passed through me as she fondled me gently, smiling in
that sweet way of hers that had driven me wild for so many years
already.

Hand in hand but in silence, we went to my bedroom.

I lifted her ankles and rolled her over backwards so I could lick
her for a while before I moved my cock to the lovely little place
between her thighs.  It didn't matter that I wasn't the first man
there; it only mattered that I was there at last.

My hard length slid into her easily, like a sword into a scabbard
that was made to fit it. Donna and I seemed to fit together just
about right; her small body molded itself to me, her tight little
hole gripped me in it's wet embrace, filling my entire being with
euphoria greater than I'd known with any other woman or girl;
because it was Donna I was coupled with this time, at long last.
The beautiful Donna, the girl all men in Milton fantasized of,
the woman I wanted to be mine.

She groaned and clutched at me as we copulated together, my stiff
cock aching in wonderful pure pleasure.

I made her come first; the sight of her heaving below me was
magnificent as my dick stood invincibly inside her, ruling her,
the object of my desire. After a while, I ejaculated into her
gorgeous body, the orgasm unimportant compared to what it
represented.

Donna spent that night in my bed; and the next night as well.  In
fact, she slept every night in my bed from that point onwards.

I invited her to move in; my heart nearly leapt out of my chest
when she agreed.

I drove my truck down to her mothers place and picked up her
stuff.



She was the first woman I ever lived with.

With my previous lovers, it had been the first sex that was
really exciting, tapering off into familiarity and then boredom.
In contrast, the first night with Donna was somewhat mundane
[probably due to the alcohol we'd had], but grew in intensity for
the first month. We came to know each other, what pleased each
other; Donna loved to be massaged, for instance, especially her
feet. She was the first woman I'd been with who seemed to
actually enjoy giving head; I'd never known pleasure like that
before. Watching my cock slide into her lovely face, her hair
tickling my thighs as the warm wet ecstasy took control of my
nervous system was an addiction I embraced with enthusiasm.

It wasn't all smooth sailing; we had fights and a breakup or two.
But we always made up within a day or so, and it just seemed to
confirm that we had something real going on between us.

She started to work in the store with me; after a couple of
years, we got married.

I did everything I could to make her happy; a smile from Donna,
my lovely young wife, would light up my day.  If she was moody, I
didn't feel right.



You always hear about rotten Mondays; but the Monday morning we
came back from vacation to find the shop burned down was a Monday
to end all Mondays.

I went into shock; the pain was too much for me. My whole life
was in that building, everything I owned [except my truck and a
change of clothes]. Every memory, all the efforts of my life, my
father's life, and even some of my granddad's. There was nothing
left but charred wreckage and the stare of the fire marshal.



My memories of the period are a bit foggy; where had we been? 
Upstate for the weekend. Was I insured?  Yes, of course.  Had I
set the alarm before we left?  Yes, certainly.

Donna drove me someplace we could stay.  I hardly even noticed
that it was Ethan's house. The home of her previous lover.

I knew Ethan, of course; I wouldn't say he was a friend of mine,
but I knew him.  He was one of the wealthiest men in the county,
and he had a large place.

Ethan shook my hand and said something consoling.  I sat on his
couch and his Mexican serving girl brought me a drink.

Ethan is one of those larger-than-life figures, tall and broad
shouldered, loud and confident.  He has wide business interests
in the area, owning the sawmill, real estate agency, quite a bit
of land, and various other bits and pieces.  He was his 50s, but
had never been married. He was famous for his liaisons with many
of the local women, married and single.  Donna had been with him
for longer than anyone else, but had told me the man was
impossible to live with; and of course at twice her age, he was
simply too old for her.

I have to admit that if I had been asked, I wouldn't have been
sitting in Ethan's house. But he told us we were welcome to his
spare room while we figured out what to do.  If my brain had been
functioning properly, I would have thanked him but never agreed;
but Donna acted first, hugging him and accepting his offer.

"Why did you bring me here?" I asked her when we were alone.

"Where else could we go?" she asked.

"To one of my friends."

"You don't have any friends, Wade. You only have customers. Had
customers, I should say."

"Perry is my friend." I said, defensively.

"Really? He's your accountant, he has to be friendly to you.
Besides, he's out of town."



Our local fire marshal called in an investigator from the state
police.  The preliminary determination; arson.  Chief suspect;
me.

I couldn't believe they thought I'd burned my own place for the
insurance.  And of course this meant there was no cover; there
was even the possibility of criminal prosecution.  I wondered why
I had paid those insurance premiums if this was the result.



Ethan had gotten too many points on his driver's license, and
asked me to run an errand; then another.  I was living in his
place and eating his food, and I really had nothing to do anyway.

He asked me to drive him the next day, so I did.  It was better
than sitting around waiting for I didn't know what.

He had a new Cadillac; not a car I would've chosen myself, but I
was surprised at what a good ride it was.

He started paying me a few hundred dollars a week; I didn't
argue.  I needed the money to make my car payments.  My bank
account was almost completely depleted after covering the bills
from my suppliers for the stock that had burned.  I was flat
broke.

Naturally, I was in a state of depression; I didn't think my life
could possibly get worse. I realized I was mistaken when I found
out my wife was getting off with our host.



Ethan sent me off on some distant errand, but I'd forgotten
something and returned to the house.  There was no one there; no
sign of Donna.  Our truck was in the drive, so I wondered where
she was; my feet made no sound on the carpeted stairs.  Ethan's
bedroom door was closed; I couldn't see inside, but I could hear.

"Take it off, Donna."  Ethan was saying. "Oh yes.  It's good to
have you back."

I heard nothing more; what more did I need to hear?  But I had to
be sure, I needed to see it with my own eyes.  There was a
balcony; I could get onto it from outside.

It was hard to imagine that this was me, Wade.  The respected
owner of the general store, member of the Chamber of Commerce;
putting a ladder quietly against Ethan's balcony to spy on him
with my wife.  Everything else had happened to me, I had nothing
to loose, no lower to go.  What did it matter now?

Silently, my leg went over the railing; I put my face to the
glass.

It was my luck that the curtains weren't completely closed.  I
can't say whether that was good luck or bad luck, though.

My lovely young wife was standing naked by the bed.  Her old
ex-lover was stroking her back and hips as he kissed her breasts.
 Her fingers ran through his thick white hair as she smiled down
at him.

They didn't say anything; they were doing, not talking.

My wife sat on the bed, and Ethan stood before her as she
unbuckled his belt and pulled his trousers down.  His cock was
half hard, and hung out in front of him in a large drooping arc.

It was strange to notice that I didn't care much; what did it
matter?  Donna was pulling on Ethan's stiffening dick, she
lowered her mouth and sucked on it.  I was already destroyed, how
can you destroy someone who is already destroyed?  I had no
pride, no substance that all.

Ethan was richer than me, more clever than me, he was now my
boss.  I was living by his grace; and his cock was huge.

I realized then why the women all swooned over him; he was
wealthy, powerful, confident and charismatic.  The way Donna was
sucking his cock, I knew it wasn't just for show. Ethan conquered
women, he didn't just screw them.  He had conquered Donna once;
he was doing it again.

I watched shamelessly, wondering if it was going to hurt later. 
Donna's young shapely legs spread wide for the old man; she
bucked and writhed in obvious delight as his white haired head
pleasured her groin.

I could see the anticipation on her face as he crawled forward,
and held his big cock in his hand, putting it against her.  I
could see the excitement in her eyes as he pushed, and his large
familiar member entered her body again.

Ethan was strong and lean, an impressive specimen considering his
age.  He drove his big dick in and out of my wife's body at an
impressive tempo; she grabbed him by his hair, her legs wrapped
around his and they kissed.  Ethan's rhythm didn't change, his
lean pale ass continued to rise and fall; Donna came.

Her orgasm didn't bother me very much. If I was going to endure
this, she should at least be having fun.  Ethan kept going, and I
wondered how long he could do it.  He had a lot of experience, I
realized; he was practiced womanizer, a conqueror.  His dick was
his weapon, and my wife knew its power well.  She launched
herself into another orgasm, with no obvious hesitation or shame.
She bucked, moaned, and clawed at our older host in blatant
pleasure.

Donna loved sex; I knew that.  Throughout our tumultuous
relationship, sex was the one constant.  We had always enjoyed
each other in bed, until the fire.  And as I watched him perform,
I had to admit that Ethan could really fuck.

Quietly, I climbed down the ladder and returned it to the shed. 
I didn't want to watch Ethan stiffen in orgasm; I didn't want to
see Donna's face as his sperm flooded her body.



It was a strange time for me, I wasn't sure any more who I was or
what I was.  I had been respected, wealthy, and independent; and
married to Donna.  Suddenly, three weeks later, I was Ethan's
driver, had no property to speak of, a criminal prosecution
hanging over my head, and was loosing my wife if I hadn't
already.



I knew Julie, Ethan's Mexican housekeeper; she'd always taken
some time for a chat when she stopped by the store.  I thought of
her as a cheery woman, seemingly content in her role as Ethan's
maid.

She was short, about five foot four, on the heavy side, and kept
her hair very short.  She spoke excellent English, but with a
definite Spanish accent.

"Wade, I have to talk to you.  I have to tell you something."

"Yes Julie?"

We were sitting in the kitchen having coffee.

"Your wife; Donna.  Do you know what she's been doing?"

"What?"  I asked, playing dumb.

"When Ethan sends you away for an hour or two, they do it."

"I know." I said, the fog in my brain thickening further.

Donna had told me how she could never possibly get along with
Ethan; how he was demanding and selfish, and could never be true
to one woman.  Besides, he was twice her age.  It was hard to
believe she'd gone back to him; and yet, if I looked at it from
another angle I had to see it.  Ethan was rich, much richer than
I had been.  Donna had left him for me; we hadn't even been
getting on well before the fire.  And now I was nothing, a shell
of a man. Of course she would go back to him, if he would have
her. It was the nature of things.

People seem to think these days that money shouldn't be a factor
in relationship, not "honest" relationships anyway; but I think
that's bullshit.  What should a woman be attracted to?  A lantern
jaw and rippling muscles?  If a guy had those things but was
brainless, everyone would agree that a woman would be stupid to
go for him.  Oh, we hear; a guy should be funny.  Women should be
attracted to comedians.  Get real.

What's attractive is fitness.  Fitness to survive, to take care
of one's dependents.  To be healthy physically and mentally, yes;
but also to be able to demonstrate the ability to provide.  I
don't think there's anything wrong in finding those attributes
desirable; but suddenly, I had lost one of those attributes. 
Perhaps more than one.

"Wade, are you okay?"  Julie asked, breaking into my reverie.

"I don't think so."  I answered.

Things were going black around the edges; I was so dizzy I had to
hold the table for support.  I wondered if I could survive, and
if I really wanted to.

Then Julie was standing next to my chair.  Her hands wrapped
around my head, and pulled it between her breasts.  My arms went
around her, and I began to cry.  It's a terrible admission to
make, that I cried as a grown man; but I'm stronger now, and I'm
able to talk about it all.

I held her around her wide hips, and I cried as she clutched my
head between her rather ample breasts.  I didn't think of this as
sexual at all.  She was consoling me, offering me her sympathy,
unselfishly and from the heart.

Through my pain and self-pity, I realized that she was the first
one to have done so; my wife, my friends, no one had really
looked after me in my time of pain and weakness.  It was Julie, a
relative stranger; she had only come to Milton a few years
earlier.  Just a Mexican, a domestic.  Not particularly
good-looking, a nobody.  The only big hearted person in the
wretched little town I called home.

Finally, my embarrassing sobbing subsided. Julie was rocking back
and forth slightly, my head still clamped between her breasts as
she stroked my face.  What a good woman, I thought; what a gem.

I looked up at her.  I had never thought of her as beautiful
before; just a roly-poly Mexican woman.  But she had the most
amazing eyes, I suddenly realized; big and dark, open yet
mysterious.  Her face betrayed a certain wisdom, an ability to
understand.  Her mouth was small, her lips feminine and well
formed.  Slowly, the lips lowered.

My befuddled head was still clamped between her breasts.  My arms
were still around her; I stared into her big eyes wondering what
the hell was going on as her face filled my vision , as her lips
touched my mouth.

She was in her mid thirties, ten years older than my wayward
wife, close to my own age.  I suddenly felt abused; she was
taking advantage of me, of my situation.

Her lips were soft and warm, and although her hands held my head
tightly, her kiss was feather light.  The softest brush of
feminine friendliness.  So soft as to be nearly innocent.

She pulled away, but only an inch.  She gazed down into my
helpless eyes; she was offering.  Offering to share herself with
me, to help ease my pain with the comfort of her plump little
body.

I was surprised to find that I wanted her.  I wasn't sure why;
surely, she wasn't very desirable as a woman.  A chubby little
wetback, she was wearing tennis shoes, blue jeans, and no makeup
at all.  Her hair was shorter than mine, and her hands were rough
from domestic labor.

But she was offering me love, and that was something that I
needed desperately.

What do men find attractive in women?  Long legs, slim hips,
large breasts.  Well, Julie had large breasts at least.  We're
looking for love and strength, just like the women are. As well
as some signs of probable fertility, I suppose.

Julie was healthy and strong, and she led me to her room.

I stood passively as she undressed me, curious at the role
reversal.  I was allowing a woman to take advantage of me, hoping
she wouldn't betray me, willing to trade the pleasure of my body
for the mere promise of her approval.  Of her support.

She stripped me naked, until I was defenseless.  My body, my
shell was hers to do with as she would.

I stood in the middle of her small bedroom as she stroked me,
fondling my stiffening cock and tracing her fingers across my
ass.

Gently, she pushed me against the bed, forcing me to sit.  She
squatted down, and lifted my feet, lying me down on my back.  I
watched her as she undressed at last; she was pale skinned, not
quite white.  Her complexion was healthy and even; her breasts
hung only slightly when she released them from their supports. 
The hair at her groin was short, black, and straight, like the
hair on her head.

She swung her knee over my phone body, and straddled me.  I had
mixed feelings as she rubbed her sex against my penis, sliding it
up and down against me.  What was I doing here?  Why was I
allowing this?  Why was she doing this?

She lay herself down on top of me, and snaked her hands under my
shoulders, to my head. Once more, she kissed me.

My hands traced up and down her naked back.  Her flesh was so
smooth, so wonderfully silky smooth.  Her tongue entered my
mouth, carefully testing me, tasting me.

After awhile, her hand went my cock; she lifted her hips, placed
me against her vulnerable point, and then pushed back.

Her body squeezed itself over my penis.  The heat of her interior
seemed to travel the length of my organ, and down into my balls
before beginning to flood my body.

We held each other as she rode me slowly, sliding her body
forward and then back again, pleasuring herself against me with
exquisitely deliberate slowness.

I looked into her eyes; I found pleasure there.  Not only hers,
but my own.  It felt good, sex with Julie; like a last meal for a
condemned man.

I wasn't sure I could come, and I wasn't sure I cared.  The
Mexican woman continued to fuck me, and she came.  I enjoyed
watching her above me, sometimes sitting erect, my penis pointing
straight up into her; sometimes lying against me, her breasts
pressing into me, her tongue penetrating me.  She came again,
quietly breathing short and hard.

I liked it, somehow.  Being taken advantage of, being a sex
object for this woman who was probably very lonely.  She started
to tickle my balls with the fingers of one hand, and I was
surprised to feel the strange feeling that precedes ejaculation;
that odd warm tightening of the abdomen.  I clutched her body
tightly as my balls contracted and my fluids pumped into her.

Afterwards, I felt even emptier than before; and yet it had been
surprisingly good to make love with Ethan's Mexican.



Ethan had some business in the state capital the following day,
and asked me to drive him into town.  It was about 200 miles from
Milton.

While I was waiting for him to finish his business, I noticed an
odd little shop near where I was parked. "The spy shop".  I
wandered in.

You'd be surprised at what you can get for a couple of hundred
dollars these days. I bought a color video camera that was about
one inch square, and could broadcast for about 100 feet.  The
following day, when Donna drove Ethan down to the sawmill, I put
it in the grandfather clock in his bedroom.

Of course there was always the chance he would find it, but I
really didn't care much; about anything.  With some amusement, I
realized that made me more than slightly dangerous.

I connected the receiver to the little television in my room, and
switched it on.  It worked just as well as it had in the shop,
showing me a surprisingly clear picture of Ethan's bed.  The bed
he had shared with my wife so recently.

I was about to switch it off when Julie came in, and started to
make Ethan's bed.  I watched her, wondering what went on in her
head; who was she?  Where had she come from?  I knew nothing
about her at all.  Were her parents alive?  Did she have bothers
or sisters?

She moved efficiently, quickly completing her task.  She dusted
and then vacuumed; she put Ethan's laundered clothes into his
cupboards.

I enjoyed watching her this way, secretly observing her at work.
I couldn't help but think of the sex we'd shared; I realized that
I'd like to have her again.  Perhaps taking a more active role.

Ethan entered the room; I hadn't realized that he'd returned.

"Julie."

"Yes sir?"

"Go put your uniform on."

There was a moment of silence as they looked at each other,
employer and employee.

"Which one?"

"Maid." Ethan answered

"Yes sir."  Julie said expressionlessly, and left the room.

I heard doors open and close as Julie went to her room.  I
wondered what was going on; I realized that despite Ethan's
reputation with the ladies, he normally lived alone except for
Julie.  I watched him remove his boots, and lie down on his bed.

I was about to switch the television off, when I heard Julie's
door open and close again downstairs. After a half minute, she
reentered Ethan's room.

She closed the door behind herself, and stood straight and tense
just inside.  She was wearing her uniform.

It consisted of white four inch heels, white net stockings, an
extremely short and very skimpy black dress, and a funny little
white lace headpiece.  My little Julie was more than a
housekeeper.

Ethan pulled down his trousers, and threw them into the corner of
the room. "Suck my  dick."  He instructed casually, leaning back
against the pillows.

Julie hesitated only briefly before she lay down between Ethan's
long spread legs, and took his half hard cock in her hands.  She
didn't say anything, but she looked at him for a long moment
before lowering her mouth over his organ.

"That's good, Julie."  He said, "It's good to know that whatever
else happens, I can rely on you.  Donna really pissed me off
today. Where's Wade, anyway?"

"I don't know, sir.  He must be in the house somewhere."  Julie
said before resuming her task.

There was something familiar about the way she gave head; she
sucked him deep once or twice, then took him out of her mouth as
she ran her tongue up and down his length once or twice, then she
repeated; while constantly stroking and scratching his stomach,
legs, and balls.

It was exactly how Donna did it. I had never thought about it
before, but my wife's cocksucking skills had obviously been
learned somewhere. Now I knew where.

"I'll have to figure out what to do about him.  I actually like
the guy, but he's a pain in the ass.  Anyway, he needs a place to
stay, and I need a driver for another two weeks until I get my
license back."

Julie lifted her face from Ethan's substantial cock for a moment;
"And what about Donna?" She asked.

Ethan laughed. "You're no dummy, are you Julie?  I'm going to ask
Donna to move back in, I really like her.  She sure does piss me
off sometimes, though."

They didn't say anything further for a few minutes; Ethan's maid
continued to give him head, expertly stroking and sucking him.

Ethan stroked her cute head and smiled at her; "Why don't you
take off your panties, honey, and we'll go the whole way."

"I'd rather not, Ethan, I have to start dinner."

"Yeah right. You always have something important to do. Look at
me honey; you still have an awfully pretty face, did you know
that?"

"Thank you sir." she said.

Ethan leaned forward and gripped Julie's small body under her
armpits.  He hauled her across himself, until she was lying on
top of him.  He kissed her mouth, one large hand on the back of
her head and the other on her ass.

"Let's fuck, baby." he said.

"Please Ethan, not now... there are others in the house..."

Ethan rolled over so his maid was below him, he grabbed her lacy
panties and pulled them down her short legs.

"I don't give a shit, this is my house and I'll do as I like."
Ethan said, pushing Julie's knees apart.

"Please Ethan, no." she pleaded as his big cock probed between
her thighs.

"Oh, stop complaining and relax." Ethan told her, pushing against
her. " you always say you don't want it, but you always enjoy it
anyway."

I watched as the old man began to fuck his round little Mexican
housekeeper.  Her legs wrapped around him and she began to meet
his thrusts halfway.

I searched around inside my numbness, looking for my own
feelings.  Yes, I was jealous and angry; my wife wasn't enough
for him?  He had to abuse Julie as well?

Julie began to whimper and cry, she held her boss tightly as his
big cock worked its magic on her body.  She might have been less
than willing to let him have his way with her, but now she was
unable to resist the persuasiveness of his cock, the power of his
confident sexuality.  She gripped his body tightly as she came.

 He pulled out of her and put his cock to her mouth.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"  He asked her.

She had no chance to answer him; he gripped her little face
between his hands and bucked with his hips, driving the tip of
his big cock in and out of her mouth as she held the shaft, doing
her best not to allow any of his ejaculate to spoil the fresh
sheets.





Donna returned a few hours later, in Ethan's car.  I watched from
the window as she entered the house; I wanted to eavesdrop on her
and Ethan, so I crept downstairs and listened from the hallway. 
I could hear pots clattering in the kitchen as Julie prepared
dinner.

"I'm sorry, Ethan."  My wife was saying to our host.

"It's alright, Donna."  He answered her, "I'm sorry too.  I
didn't mean to take you for granted or anything."

"Where's Wade?"

"I don't know, I haven't seen him."

"Things aren't going as we'd planned."

"Let's see.  Things might still work out.  Do you love me,
Donna?"

"Please don't ask me that, Ethan.  Not yet."

"I'm sorry baby, I don't mean to pressure you.  Do you still love
Wade?"

"I don't know.  Anyway, that's over.  What's happened has
happened, and there's no going back. I really wanted my
independence, though."

"You know you're welcome here."

There was silence; I didn't know what was going on around the
corner, but I could imagine. I heard a floorboard creak; I backed
around into the dining room as Ethan and Donna came out of the
living room, and walked upstairs holding hands.



I couldn't help it, even though I pretty much knew everything
now, I went to my room and switched on my little television to
watch them.

Ethan's behavior with my wife was very different to the way he
acted with Julie.  Almost opposite.

He undressed her slowly and reverently, easing her long dress
over her shoulders, down her hips, and over her ass.  He kissed
her from the floor up as she stood quietly, enjoying his worship.
 His kisses slowly traveled up her long legs, to her trim round
ass.  He bit her lightly there, and then licked his way up the
length of her spine.

His fingers traced continuously over her body; I could see her
smiling, enjoying his attention, but giving him little in return
yet.

She broke away from him, and sat in a chair.  She spread her legs
expectantly.

Ethan kneeled before her, and I saw his head go between her
thighs.  She held his face there and tilted her head back in
pleasure.

There was an unhurried comfort to their lovemaking that betrayed
their familiarity with each other.  I had a suspicion [later
confirmed by Julie] that Donna had never given Ethan up
completely.  This was normal for them; even while Donna was
married to me, living with me, sharing my business and my life,
she'd go back to her older lover periodically to enjoy his sexual
prowess.

They moved to the bed, and once more I watched Ethan take my wife
in a missionary position.  I was amazed that he could do that at
his age; he'd just been with Julie a couple of hours earlier.

His lean strong body drove his old cock in and out of my young
wife, as she cried in pleasure, her long slim legs waving in the
air, then wrapping around his legs, then around his back.  He
kissed her mouth, he stroked her face, all the while his big cock
continuing its work, driving her through orgasm after orgasm.

I was glad to see it; it helped me to understand.  She couldn't
resist him, his wealth, his confidence; she couldn't resist his
sex.  He was a difficult man, and too old for her. How could she
promise to spend her life with him, knowing she would still be
young and vital when he would finally and inevitably lose his
strength?  So she had tried to make her life with me.  Less
wealthy, adequate in bed but not up to Ethan's standards.  A
reliable and faithful type of man who would be loyal to her, who
would do his best to please her.

But now I understood that she would never be free of Ethan. As
long as he was able, she would be willing.

They rolled over, so my wife was above him; her loveliness was
still breathtaking. Tey held hands and watched each other as she
lifted herself up and down over his powerful cock, her ample hair
and breasts bouncing as she moved.

He arranged her on her hands and knees, and did it to her from
behind; he stroked her back first, then reached around to toy
with her tits as she huffed through another orgasm.

It was odd to watch; but necessary. By watching them, by
experiencing the pain of Donna's betrayal so directly, I hoped to
be free of the last of my feelings for her that much sooner.  I
was reveling in my pain, the exquisite beauty of being totally
rejected and betrayed.

She rolled over again, swinging a shapely leg between them so
that there was no need to disengage. Above her again, Ethan gave
it to her hard, until he stiffened; he grunted as he came, while
his lovely younger lover held him tightly.

"I love you, Donna."  He then said, much to my surprise.

"I know."  My wife answered him, her fingernails tracing lines
across his moist back.

They were both trapped.



Donna came into our room after a while.

"There you are. Have you been just lying there all day? You
should shave at least, you look like shit. I'm going to drive
Ethan over to his brother's place."

"What about dinner?"

"You hardly eat anyway. We'll eat over there, I guess."

Donna sat down at the table and did her makeup in a little
mirror. I suddenly realized that she hadn't lost much in the
fire; mysteriously, she'd had all her favorite personal things
with her that weekend; both her watches, all her jewelry, her
family photos, all her best clothes even though we were only away
for a couple of days.

And then I knew. It was Donna, she had done it.

"Why did you do it, Donna?"

"What?"

"You did it somehow. You arranged the fire."

She stripped off her dress and sprayed some perfume under her
arms. Her breasts filled her lacey bra, and I noticed she'd put a
wad of folded toilet paper in her panties to absorb Ethan's fluid
that would be leaking from her now.

"It wasn't working between us, Wade. It's been clear for a
while."

"But why did you have to destroy my life?"

"I didn't mean for it to be like this." She said, wriggling into
her best dress. "Zip me up, will you? I thought we'd get the
insurance money, and then we could have a clean break. You
wouldn't want to sell, and you'd never have any money for a
settlement otherwise."

"I can't believe you really did it. Was Ethan in on it?"

"I'm really sorry, Wade. I still like you, I think you're a
really great guy and all. Don't wait up, we might be pretty
late."

As Ethan's car drove away, I wandered down stairs. Julie was
seething in the kitchen, in her normal clothes; she could have
kept the food cooking without the stove, just by staring at it.

"That bastard!" she hissed.

"Ethan?"

"Yes of course Ethan, don't be stupid! He's a bastard!"

"So tell me, Julie; what is your relationship with Ethan?" I
asked her, sitting down.

She stared at me for a moment, her dark eyes smoldering.

"He was my lover. Not straight away. First I only cleaned and
cooked. He had many women; they come, they go. They cry very loud
in the night. Then one day, we are here alone; he seduce me. I
hear many ladies crying for him, I know he is very. anyway, we
are lovers for some time. Then he brings home some local gringo
girl, only 19. I should have left, but I stay. I am illegal, I am
a bit afraid.

After that, he just use me when he wants. When he is angry at his
girlfriend or has no time for dating. He use me. Bastard."

"Do you love him?" I asked.

"He is shit, an asshole, a complete bastard!"

"Do you love him?"

"I don't know. Maybe before, not now."

Despite her outward show of strength, I could see she was
hurting; I stood and went to her. I took her in my arms, just to
give her a nice warm hug.

I suppose it was inevitable that my little effort at comforting
her ended up with us in bed together again.

I wasn't particularly keen, to be honest; I seemed to have no
feeling.  I liked Julie, I thought she was a fine person; but I
was in no state to be making love with anyone, and the sad truth
was that I had never found her particularly attractive.

Yet somehow I let her lead me to her bed once more, I made no
objection as she stripped me.  I suppose it was because she was
the only human comfort I was likely to get.

Her kisses were genuinely affectionate, her physical desire for
me somehow reassuring.

She was less the stranger now, and as I penetrated her, it didn't
feel as strange as the first time.

Her plump little body was tight against my penis, and despite my
numbness, her passion warmed me.

I didn't feel the kind of sexual excitement that I should have,
but I was glad to make love with her.  Her skin was soft and warm
under my hands, even her plump ass felt pleasant.

Suddenly I realized what it was; it was her smell.  Julie had the
most wonderful attractive smell.  To look at, she was a toad
compared to my wayward wife.  Yet her passion for me seemed so
much more real, the way she tasted and smelled seemed so right; I
put my nose to her neck and inhaled deeply as my dick continued
to do what it does. The scent of her did something for me, it had
a lifting effect on my tortured soul. I kissed her neck, and then
licked under her arm. The taste of her sweat seemed to make me
stronger; my dick was now achingly hard. I pushed her shoulders
into the mattress, giving it to her with all my power, and I
looked at her.

She stared back up at me, my own desire and desperation mirrored
on her face.

There wasn't much left of me as a man; my wife had burned me out,
erased my life.  So much of my persona was my property and my
business, my interaction with others had been mainly over the
counter of my store for so many years.  But at least I could
still please a woman; a poor damaged woman liked Julie, anyway.

There was no one in the house; my little lover screamed as she
came, vocalizing her ardor and her pleasure.  I enjoyed making
her come, but didn't really care about my own orgasm. So I kept
going, glad that at least one of us was able to feel pleasure.

And after some time, I began to realize something; that it was
good.  There was satisfaction in looking into Julie's big dark
eyes as she came, and came again.  I found pleasure in pleasing
her, in the realization that even with no home, no business, and
no hope, I was still a man.  There was still some strength in me.
 I might yet live.

Donna was a beauty, but not a healthy person.  My numbness and
the remnants of my love for her had blunted the sharp edge of my
anger, but she had betrayed me unforgivably.

Not in enjoying a little bit of illicit sex with Ethan, that I
could forgive. Although I had never cheated on her, I had been
tempted.

But Donna had destroyed me, taken everything from me.  She'd
burned my inheritance, my dad's store, taken my home and my
memories from me to gain a few dollars as she left me.

Julie's passion for me seemed so simple in comparison; it seemed
so physical, so pure. She knew I had nothing, no money and no
property, and yet she still desired me. She still found
satisfaction in my arms.

Her lips were hot against me, her tongue probed my mouth, her
hands clawed at my back and her vaginal muscles squeezed my cock.
 The scent of her seemed to work on my primal brain, telling me
she was good; I stared into her big clear eyes as I ejaculated
into her once more, filling her hungry little body with the only
part of my being that still felt viable.



"Where's Wade?" I heard someone bellowing downstairs the
following evening.

"Well tell him Perry's here."

Perry; my one true friend. He was back from his vacation at last;
I wondered if he would betray me as well. I got out of bed and
went downstairs.

"Wade! What the hell are you doing here, man? Why aren't you
staying at my house? You know where the key is. Shit, you look
terrible! Isn't anyone feeding you? Get your stuff, let's go. Fay
will have dinner ready. Donna! Where's Donna? Donna, I'm taking
Wade home with me. Are you coming?"

"I'm going to stay here, Perry." Donna said.

I didn't seem to have a vote; I was in no state to assert myself
anyway. I was still in shock, about everything.

Wade stared at my wife for a moment; Donna was looking like a
fashion model, an elegant green pastel dress covered her while
hiding nothing. Her makeup was perfect, her jewelry hung from her
as though it always had, and always would. She stood in her
ex-lovers opulent house, obviously comfortable there. The picture
was clear.

"Let's go." My friend said.



Wade did my accounting. He had copies of my records from a few
months before the fire.

"How much did people have on account before the fire?" he asked
me after dinner.

"I don't know. The account book is ashes now."

"Three months ago, you were owed ten thousand dollars." He noted,
writing it down.

"I've talked to your insurance company. They won't pay without a
fight, but there are no criminal charges, either. Lucky you
bought gas with your credit card on your way back. It proves you
weren't there, so no one's going to try and say you did it
yourself."



Perry's wife, Fay, fed me and put me to bed. Somehow, for the
first time, I thought things might be ok; I had friends. They
would take care of me.



"Do you want a new store?" Perry asked me.

"What do you mean? Of course, if I could have it."

"Just wanted to be sure. You were always a shopkeeper, but did
you really like it? Is it what you wanted to do?"

"Sure. I loved my store. Even when things were tight, I always
enjoyed it."

"Alright."



I didn't know what he was on about; there was nothing, no money,
and no insurance.

Then Julie came.

She was talking urgently to Fay and Wade as I came into the
kitchen. They all went silent as they saw me.

"What were you all talking about?" I asked.

"You, of course." Fay said. "Sit down while I get you some
breakfast."

"I've got to go." Wade said, and left.

It was good to see Julie; she warmed me in a way that even Fay
and Perry didn't. She was my lover, after all.

We all talked for a while, before Fay announced she had to do
some shopping in town.

"I'll be back around three." She told me, kissing me on the
cheek, and she left.

"You were her lover, once." Julie said.

"Yes; long ago, when we were kids. Before she was with Perry. How
did you know?"

"Women can tell." She said.



We made love again; it was odd to realize that I found her so
desirable. There was something about her, something I needed. An
honesty, a goodness. I felt drawn to her, every instinct in me
urged me to hold her, keep her, talk to her. Tell her my woes,
hear hers, walk with her in the woods. Take her where she needed
to go, kiss her, love her.

She was so healthy, so open; her little opening so tight against
my organ as I penetrated her body, her hands so insistent as I
pumped her until we came.

I had fallen for Donna's youth and her stunning appearance. She
had fallen for me because of my relative wealth; Julie was as
plain as a woman could be without being ugly, and I didn't have a
pot to piss in. the love that seemed to be growing between us had
to be pure, sterilized by the same fire that had ruined me.

Her big dark eyes were watching me as we rested ourselves in
Perry's spare room. I felt the ice in my heart begin to melt, the
heat of the Latin woman slowly penetrating my being.

She had been burned in the same way I had; Ethan's big dick and
his wealth had led her to despair as well.

I stroked her and kissed her again, not from sexual desire or
lust; just out of a feeling of tenderness, a genuine affection
for her.

Her mouth responded in kind, and I felt some tensions that I'd
failed to notice in her slipping away. She was also burned, she
needed love as much as I did.

After some time, I felt my cock stiffening again; then Julie
pulled it back into herself.

I'd been a teenager the last time I'd been able to make love
twice in a row; but there was something different about it now,
something far more special.

My hot little lover began to come again, she thrashed and groaned
in passion. My dick grew harder, my heart warmer; I stared into
her eyes and realized that I could love her, that perhaps I
already did. That she was beautiful beyond compare.

She didn't have the playboy magazine body of Donna, she had
something far more lovely.

Julie had a heart of gold, a generous selfless soul. She would
never betray me, she would put my happiness before her own, if I
would do the same.

She wasn't having orgasm after orgasm because of my stiff dick
pushing in and out, but because she found me attractive. Because
she wanted me as a man. Because she knew somehow that she could
trust me, that I would never betray her either.

All this shone from her big dark eyes, it was written on her
smooth round face; my Mexican sweetheart was simply pure of soul.

Her lovely exotic eyes stared back at me, her pouty lips parted
slightly.  My cock slid in and out of her body, in and out; my
heart was pounding with more than the physical effort. Something
special was happening, it was as though an electric current had
begun to flow between us.  Julie; oh God, Julie!  I held her
tight and kissed her mouth hard, suddenly sure that this woman,
this short pudgy gorgeous woman, was the most beautiful creature
on God's green earth

My second orgasm of the morning wasn't much in quantity, but it
made up for it in emotion; I had to look into her eyes as I
ejaculated into her, I had to just stare at the sheer splendor
that I had found hidden there.

And she stared back at me; stared back as if she saw something in
me as well.

At last, I had no more fluid to share with her.  I lay on top of
her quietly, just looking at her as my dick slowly shrank within
her.  I kissed her again, stroking her face.



"We can do it." Perry announced a few days later.

"Do what?" I asked.

"Rebuild." He said. "We'll use the old foundation. Ethan is
donating the building supplies."

"Really? Donating?" I was flabbergasted; on the other hand, he
was getting Donna.

"That's right. I twisted his arm a little.

"How?"

"Julie told me some things. there are some skeletons in old
Ethan's closets. Let's just say it's only fair, and he knows it."

"Why is it fair, Perry? Did Ethan have something to do with the
fire?"

"Look, Wade; there are some legal issues. Just trust me, ok?"

"All right, Perry."

Trust was something that was hard for me.

"I've also raised eight grand from folks who had accounts with
you."

"Without the book?"

"Folks are more honest than you think. You're a part of the
community, Wade, and so was your store; we want you back.
Suppliers have all agreed to soft lines of credit for the first
two years. You're the only retail outlet in the area, and your
personal credit rating is very good. We can start next week, a
couple of the boys said they'll come to help."



I almost cried the day we started work. 43 people came to help;
their trucks full of tools, their hearts full of charity.  We all
had lunch, and then dinner at the worksite. My friends, my
neighbors. People I'd never thought would put their shoulders to
the wheel for me. During the week most had to work, but from 5
o'clock until it was too dark, the sounds of saws and hammers
rung out like music, until I was restored.

Teenagers and old men; friends of my father and the kids of my
friends, all came to help. They laughed and sang songs, they
punched me on the shoulder and asked me what needed doing next.
My property was more like a party than a building site; someone
always had music on, the barbeque was rarely cold, and the beer
rarely wasn't.

"Thanks for being here, guys."

"Are you kidding? When I lost my job, you carried us for two
months."

"No problem, Wade. You were always there for us."

"When I was a kid, my dad used to tell us your store was where
our food came from."

"There was a lot of hard winters where you were between us and
hunger, Wade."

"When we were in school, you always stood up for me."

"Hey, Wade! What do you think friends are for?"

Donna was wrong; I do have friends.

And there was Julie, talking to them all, winning them over with
her open charm, overcoming their built in prejudice to the
outsider.

As I watched her serving food and telling a joke to a man she
didn't know, but whom I'd know since childhood, I realized that
Donna had isolated me from these people. I had been blinded by
her sheer beauty, and I'd been the last in town to find out what
all the women knew from the start; Donna was a bitch.

Of course there's a lot of debt for new stock, but Julie has an
impressive savings account that will see us through. The
customers all love her cheery character, and so do I.

Her excess weight has dropped from her since she moved in with
me; Julie is now as beautiful on the outside as she always has
been on the inside.  Her thick black hair has grown to her
shoulders, her breasts are still full but her hips have retracted
inwards.

We burn with a different fire; a warm comfortable inner blaze. I
have to smell her, morning and night. I have to inhale her
pheromones, taste her excretions.

I lick her armpits, then her crotch. I kiss her cute little feet
before dawn.

When she can't take it anymore, she climbs on top of me, fitting
my plug into her socket, the fit always perfect. Her big eyes
call my name as her mouth looks at me, her full breasts hold my
hands. Her body sucks the sperm from me, vacuums me until I'm
empty before we rise to start our day.

  It's hard to express the joy she brings me; my heart beats
faster when I look into her eyes, I can just watch her cleaning
or stacking the shelves, and I feel a flush in my chest.

I'm feeling good these days, as good as I thought I felt before
Donna burned me.

Tonight, I'm going to ask Julie to marry me.



  Epilogue;

A year after we married, Julie is pregnant at last.  Every day
she grows larger, and if possible even more beautiful than
before.

I've never been this happy, this thrilled to just be alive; my
heart beats faster when I see my big little wife, I love her like
I never knew love could be.

Donna married Ethan, and is also pregnant; but Julie says Ethan
has a zero sperm count. Whoever the father is, it's definitely
not Ethan.

Don't look at me, I didn't do it.  Probably the gardener or the
kid next door.

Ace, 2004

The rest of my stories are at;
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/aceinthe_hole/www// and;
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/aceinthe_hole/   [in plain text]

Please send comments to; storyace@hotmail.com 

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