It Was Just a Roleplay Fantasy! (closed for Biker_Faerie and the lucky guy getting to play with her)

DreamingOfMyEx

Really Really Experienced
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The old Victorian house had been handed down to him from his paternal grandparents. His great-grandfather, the original owner, had also been named Samuel. The only child of an only child, the modern day Samuel Parker had hoped to one day fill the four additional bedrooms with children by his beautiful wife Tara. That would ensure the perpetuation of his line, and fill their lives with happiness.

That had been the plan.

Now one of those rooms served as a guest room, a second one was also available in case another guest room was needed, and the room in which Samuel could be found was his "office (slash) hobby room". Truth be told, it was also a room for collecting junk he couldn't bear to part with.

The fourth room was Tara's hobby room, where craft projects had been moved aside to make room for light weights, a yoga mat, and other fitness-related items.

He and Tara had so much in common it seemed - in the beginning. Similar religious views, similar political views, the same tastes in movies. In truth she was somewhat more intelligent and cultured - something he never denied and which she never pointed out. Otherwise, it seemed a match made in Heaven -- almost.

There were other differences. Tara had been overweight even when they married, and seemed to gain even more after the wedding. Samuel would have preferred her "thinner", but still found her to be a remarkably beautiful woman -- one he felt he didn't deserve. Samuel didn't have the same issues with his weight. In fact he was quite healthy back when he was in the Army, but that was years ago. This more sedentary lifestyle, coupled with job stresses, were beginning to take their toll. No, he wasn't "fat", but he was starting to look much less fit - and he was starting to feel much less fit as well. Perhaps if he spent more time on the dusty treadmill sitting in the corner instead of at the computer desk watching porn ...

"Doesn't matter now, does it?" he mumbled to himself from the corner in which he sat on the floor. When the man wants - needs - sex more often than the wife, what's the man supposed to do? And when the wife doesn't share his same fantasies -- well, that's what the internet is for, right? He would never in a million years dream of paying a prostitute to play the Dominatrix for him. At least Tara, on the rare occasion she indulged his fantasies, made an effort to pretend she was who he wanted her to be. A prostitute would just be going through the motions anyway, with no emotional investment in the game. Not that he would ever consider that option.

===

"Fuck!" It was almost loud enough for Tara to hear in the Master Bedroom. "Fuck!" he whispered, but just as emphatically. It was supposed to just be a fantasy! Sure, as she was losing weight he encouraged her to dress sexier, spend more time on her hair and makeup, he even sprang for a couple of days at some fancy spa where she would be treated as the goddess she was becoming. Sure, he got a bit excited the first time he saw her flirting with a handsome young waiter. And the second time, too. It played right in to one of his biggest fantasies.

But fantasies are just that. They have their limits. Right?

Apparently not. Not in this case.

It was difficult to admit to himself it was all his fault - even though it may have been. No, it wasn't. It was a fantasy. It wasn't supposed to be real.

===

A few minutes earlier his beautiful sexy wife had given him two options: Suck it up, or pack his things and get out. Get out of the house HIS great-grandfather had built with his own two hands. Still, it wasn't the thought of having to leave his own home that he dreaded, but the thought of living without Tara.

Wiping away the last of his tears, Samuel returned to the bedroom to find his wife sitting at the vanity. Admiring herself? Getting ready to go out?

"I love you" he whispered. She didn't appear to care one way or the other. She was waiting for him to say something else. "You ... you deserve ... whatever you want. I.. I just.. don't want to live without you. I.. can't live without you. Please.. let me stay."

The tears started again.
 
Tara Parker hadn't known how she'd expected Samuel to react when she told him she was having an affair. She'd just known that she had to tell him. In retrospect perhaps she shouldn't have been surprised by his grovelling response. The balance of power in their relationship had been shifting her way for a while now. She was the main bread-winner these days and slimming down had gotten her a promotion to head of sales at the vending machine company she worked for. But more than this it gave her a new found confidence.

In a way it was Samuel's fault that they'd reached this juncture. He'd been the one who'd encouraged her to dress more daringly and to flirt with other guys in public. If he hadn't, then maybe none of this would have happened. Tara wasn't naive enough to believe that entirely though. She'd never been particularly outgoing but after reaching the regional finals for 'Slimmer of the Year 2022' (another thing that Samuel had pushed her into) she realised that men had started taking an interest in her, and she enjoyed it.

Besides, it wasn't as though things were great in the bedroom department at home. Weeks could go by without sex and it seemed that neither of them really needed it or made the effort. Then Tara had inadvertently found Samuel's secret stash of porn on the computer.

They were mainly what you'd call 'jerk off' videos. Scantily clad women telling their viewer about how they'd treat him or what they'd let other people do to them while he watched. Others were just plain porn videos but all with a theme of male domination. The penny had dropped for Tara at that point. Samuel had always had a few kinks in the bedroom. In the early days Tara had done her best to accommodate his slightly embarassed suggestions but she'd been a bit self conscious about doing those things.

Meeting Marco had been the event that had brought everything to head. Marco was the owner of a chain of auto repair shops and Tara had met him while trying to steal the vending machine contract from a rival company. He'd taken an interest in her and she'd wined and dined him, telling herself that she was doing this purely for the good of her company. Long story short, she got the contract and the two of them began an affair. Sex with Marco blew her mind, it was nothing like she'd ever experienced before. But she knew there was no long term future for them. After two failed marriages Marco wasn't about to repeat the mistake and to be honest, the casual nature suited them both. She knew Marco got a kick out of fucking another man's wife and she'd been prepared to ignore that, until now.

***

"You ... you deserve ... whatever you want. I.. I just.. don't want to live without you. I.. can't live without you. Please.. let me stay."

She heard Samuel's pleas and then had to watch him break down in tears. Far from elicit sympathy it filled her with contempt for this wimp of a husband. But, for all his faults, he'd been a good steady provider and she had married him for better or for worse.

"You can stay," she told him sternly, "but there's going to have to be changes. I want your stuff out of this bedroom tonight. You can sleep in the spare bedroom from now on. And if i want to bring Marco or any other man back to this house then i'm going to and i expect you to make yourself scarce. And finally, i want a copy of all the dirty little videos you keep on your PC and i want it tonight. Understood?"

She looked at the flabby excuse of a man, snivelling in front of her and felt empowered.

"Now get out of my bedroom. I need to change for dinner with Marco. Don't wait up for me."
 
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"Yes Miss..." he abruptly cut himself off. He was about to address her as Miss Tara - something he'd never done before. Never, except in his fantasies.

Samuel Parker was by no means stupid. He had a decent university education, a decent job, had made some decent investments, but at that moment he felt like the stupidest man alive as all the conflicting emotions attacked his already over-stressed psyche. What was happening to him now was practically straight out of the videos he was fond of watching and masturbating to: the beautiful sexy wife cuckolding and humiliating her pathetic husband.

It was just a fantasy. It wasn't supposed to come true, but it did. And it was all his fault.

He couldn't believe he'd been so stupid. Samuel had spent months -- no, years -- conditioning himself to become what he'd just become without realizing what he was doing. Even more pathetic was the realization he'd devoted almost as much effort into turning Tara into the fantasy woman she had just become.

HOW COULD HE BE SO STUPID?

He felt like his beautiful sexy wife had just dropped his brain into a blender and turned it on high, so jumbled were his thoughts and emotions.

No, not his brain -- his soul.

Part of his soul was telling him this is just a temporary fling she was having. A lot of women did that, right? Everything would be okay eventually.

Another part was telling him that maybe this was just some role play scenario she was initiating because she loved him and wanted to accommodate his pathetic little fantasies. He knew that wasn't true, but a part of him had to hold on to the hope that maybe it was. BUT -- that look of contempt she had for him. That couldn't be an act.

It was all too much for him to deal with at that point. In the future he would figure out what to do, but for now there was only one thing to do, and that was to obey Tara. Miss Tara. He'd chosen that form of address for the fantasy version of his wife because the "miss" implied a woman who wasn't married, or in this case a woman who was married but wasn't constrained by the bonds of holy matrimony.

"Yes, Miss Tara."

Then he just stood there, probably looking every bit as stupid and pathetic as he felt at that point. He knew what she wanted him to do, but he wasn't sure how to comply. She told him to get out of "her" bedroom - but - he wanted to stay so badly. It made no sense. He wanted to stay to watch her get ready for a date with another man? The man she was having an affair with? Samuel remembered a time she had consented to play one of his silly little fantasies, and she let him do her nails. Maybe he could offer to... no.. shit.. what was he thinking?? He quickly turned away and hurried back to "his" room. He had figured out how to download videos onto a flash drive - several flash drives, it turned out - because videos occasionally disappeared from his favorite online porn sites. So that part of her instructions to him was already done.

Maybe he should package them up in a box and wrap it as a present to present to her when she returns from her ... no, she said not to wait up.

Fuck! How did he let this happen? And more importantly, how was he going to stop it???

===

With the videos already downloaded and packed up for her in a decorative little box, there was nothing for poor Samuel to do except contemplate the situation. Her only other instructions to him were to clear his things out of her bedroom, but she also didn't want him in there while she was getting ready for her date. In many ways, staying busy would have been better, since too much time to think only made things worse. What did the future hold for them? What would the neighbors notice, and think? What about his parents? Their friends? Yes, that was something he needed to address to her - the need for discretion. There wasn't much he could do that night, but later they would have to have a talk about it. He hoped she wouldn't bring that guy home tonight. Samuel didn't even want to think his name. Marco. Fuck... even that name suggests he has a big cock.

===

Once he heard Tara leave the house, Samuel went to "her" room and began moving everything into one of the guest rooms. Everything of his from the drawers, everything from the closet, everything from the master bath -- all the while wondering how he could just surrender like this. Maybe he should take a stand. He is, after all, the man of the house. And, technically, it's HIS house. It has been in his family for four generations now.

Generations. What about children? They'd planned to have children, he and Tara. Without children ... without children, his line would die out. He remembered masturbating to a video in which the woman was telling her husband she needed to remove his "inferior DNA" from the gene pool. His DNA isn't inferior. He would make a wonderful father, and she.. if she ever comes to her senses and realizes .. oh god.. One more problem to overwhelm his already overtaxed mind.

Tara had told him not to wait up. He waited up. For a long while he waited up, unable to sleep. No need to mention the thoughts running through his mind. Picturing her looking so beautiful and sexy.. with another man. Wondering what he looked like. Wondering how big his cock was. Thoughts Samuel didn't want to be thinking, but he couldn't help it. Maybe alcohol would help - help get rid of those thoughts - help him sleep. Eventually, it did. But not before leaving her present - the videos - on her dresser with a note that simply said "I love you".


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Tara met Marco at an out of town steak house that evening. She wore a ridiculously short black micro dress that showed off her statuesque legs in combination with a bra that thrust her ample breasts front and centre. Given the shortness of her dress she made the concession of wearing a large pair of black cotton panties. She didn't want to show herself off to the other diners too much.

Marco was there when she arrived and she thought she'd have a bit of fun at his expense first.

"I've done it babe. I've told him I'm leaving him. We can be together now."

Marco looked like a rabbit caught in headlights.

"Errr. I don't know what to say babe..."

Tara laughed at his discomfort.

"You should see your face," she told him. "It's a picture."

Marco gave a sigh of relief.

"But i have told Samuel about us and i told him he could either suck it up or get out."

"What did he choose?"

"He's in the spare bedroom."

"I would have guessed that," Marco laughed. "He sounds like such a wimp."

"You don't know the half of it."

Tara told Marco about the Samuel's taste in porn, which made Marco chuckle more.

"You know you could make some of his dreams come true," he told Tara with a smirk on his face.

"What do you mean?" Tara asked.

"Do some of the things in his videos, make him watch, tell him about them, humiliate him."

"I'm not sure i'm that much of a bitch," she replied.

"Suit yourself," Marco parried. "But now that you're a free woman how about stepping things up a notch?"

"You want to get engaged?" she joked.

Marco laughed again

"No, but i thought you might like to accompany me to a party at the weekend. The partner swapping sort of party. It's up market. No uglies i promise."

Tara thought for a moment. It was a big step, but why not live a little she thought.

"Ok," she agreed.

When they'd finished their meal Marco asked her if she wanted to stay the night at his place. She'd had sex there many times before but had never stayed the night. She really wanted to however she had a super important presentation in the morning so reluctantly she told him no.

Instead, Marco fucked her up against the back of her BMW three series in a quiet part of the car park. He gripped her breasts tightly as he took her from behind, leaving his finger marks on her. It was short and sweet. There hadn't even been time to remove her panties and, once he'd cum, all Tara had to do was slip them back into place. On the drive home she felt Marco's cum seeping out of her and into them.

When she got back, the house was quiet. Samuel must have gone to bed. She was glad about that. In her bedroom she found the flash drives he'd left for her in the gift box, along with the note saying I love you. It annoyed her. She took her cum stained panties off and left them outside Samuel's room along with a note of her own.

"Launder these!" was the simple instruction.
 
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It wasn't as if Samuel Parker was morally opposed to alcohol - he'd certainly drank his share in his younger years, but eventually the novelty wore off and it wasn't uncommon for him to go months without even so much as a glass of wine with dinner. Perhaps that's why the four glasses he had before bed hit him particularly hard next morning. Not enough to be officially "hung over" - but he definitely needed to take something for a headache when he arose - that and a lot of water.

Waking in a strange room disoriented him as well -- not to mention the events of the previous evening. That threw him for a loop from which he hadn't quite recovered. So, in that funny way he sometimes thought, he had half-convinced himself this was all an elaborate game Tara was playing with him. She loved him, she knew his fantasies, they had no plans for the upcoming weekend -- if this is just a roleplay, she would be up for "Wife of the Year". Actually, Wife of the Century would be a more appropriate award.

That other part of him cautioned Sam to not get his hopes up. After all, wasn't she too good for him? Isn't it reasonable a sexy woman like her would grow bored of him? Maybe even embarrassed to be married to someone as unremarkable as him? Thank goodness he didn't have much on his plate at work for the rest of the week, because he needed to spend some serious amount of time behind closed doors trying to figure out what to do about all th....

Work?

Shit! He's going to be late for work!

In his wine-induced stupor, not only did he not think to set an alarm, but because he didn't go to sleep at his usual time he overslept next morning. Mr. Carter would be furious! Rushing out of his new room on his way to the shower, the first thing to catch his eye in on the hallway table was the little gift Tara left for him - soiled panties and a note. No time to even think about that, much less examine them closely - he was going to be late for work and his boss wouldn't like it.

Five minutes and two small cuts from his razor later, his body still damp from the quick shower, Sam was still getting dressed as he began making his way to the front door. And there were Tara's panties. No time now -- he grabbed them and stuffed them into his inside coat pocket to deal with later, leaving the note on the table.

===

Mr. Carter was already upset with him for forgetting to file some important paperwork with the State earlier in the week. The "fault" was actually Laurie's, the pretty young assistant who was, to put it kindly, a bit spacey. Sam liked to think she was just new and intimidated by the complexities of the business world and would do fine once she settled in. Meanwhile, he took the blame for her mistake. That's what good leaders do. And that's what gallant gentlemen do. Mr. Carter would be over it soon enough - as soon as someone else in the department made an even worse mistake.

"I'm sorry Sir, but Tara's car wouldn't start this morning." Samuel wasn't prone to lying like that, but -- because he was already in trouble with the boss, he figured it would be okay. And because Andrew Carter was as much smitten with Tara as everyone else up the chain of command he figured it would be okay.

"Well, I suppose if you were helping your wife...." all is okay.

Of course they weren't all smitten with Tara because she's beautiful and sexy -- well, that may have been part of it -- but it was mostly because she was so charming. No doubt even before she lost all that weight others saw her as much too good for Samuel.

===

Once he had dealt with whatever crisis his meager staff hit him with first thing in the morning, Samuel was free to settle back and try to figure out what the hell was happening with his wife, and what he should do about it. Until then he'd forgotten about the panties in his coat. Getting up to close the door to his office, he then removed the panties... the panties which had only hours earlier adorned his goddess-wife's most intimate area ... and held the crotch to his face.

On his smoothly shaved cheek he could feel the crust of the dried cum of another man, a better man, who had been fucking his sexy wife. No, it can't be. It's just another part of some elaborate scheme Tara cooked up to rock his world by playing out some of his deepest and most arousing fantasies. At least that's what he hoped. Moving the panties to his nose, Sam inhaled deeply. They had definitely been worn, and by a woman who had been aroused. But the scent of a man? He just couldn't tell.

"Laurie" he called his young assistant on the intercom "I'm not feeling very well today - I need you to handle whatever comes along, as long as you're comfortable with it. Of course you can call me if anything big crops up." He considered taking Tara's panties to the washroom to clean them as best he could, but there wasn't exactly a discreet way to dry them. Even with his door closed, there was always the possibility of someone coming into the office, seeing a woman's panties lying or hanging somewhere to dry. Not very professional.

For most of the rest of the day, overwhelmed by what was happening in his marriage and a wee bit hung over, Samuel just sat at his desk not getting anything accomplished. The most he was able to come up with was that it was important to let Tara know he loved her. That's what's important. Everything else will work out in time. He was sure of that.

Tara would get an email from him at work later in the morning. With no mention of anything that had happened (after all, other people were probably reading his emails and hers) it simply said "I love you."
 
Tara had gone to work the next morning with a spring in her step. She’d enjoyed being taken in the car park by Marco the previous night. It had made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t done for a long time.

As she sat in her office she felt smug and wondered what Samuel had made of her soiled panties. Her mood was spoiled by Samuel’s email. It annoyed her and she began to wonder whether he was in denial.

“It’s over,” she typed in exasperation. “Either accept it or move out or I’ll tell everyone about your dirty little secret.”

Tara was in a mood for the rest of the day. She knew she was going to have to have it out with Samuel. If they were going to live in the same house then there were going to have to be some ground rules.

She left the office early that day determined stamp her authority on the situation.
 
That response put Samuel in a very melancholy mood the rest of the day as well. That response dashed his hopes that maybe this was all just a game she was playing. It really was over. It may as well be his life that's over.

Not that he had the courage to do anything that drastic.

He left work early that day too, but not to go home. Or to a bar. He stopped by a park not far from home to simply sit. Sit and think. Think about ... nothing in particular.

His marriage was over, and it was time for him to figure out what to do about it. Could he continue to live with Tara in light of this new "arrangement"? What alternative did he have?

Wait, it was his home. His family's home for generations. As much as he still loved her, still didn't want to see anything bad happen to her, it was HIS house. Tomorrow, it would be time to call a lawyer. For this evening, he only wanted to go home, go to his room, and sulk. He arrived home to do that about the same time he would normally arrive home from work.

The panties in his coat pocket had been forgotten.
 
When Samuel got home Tara was waiting for him. She had figured out her strategy and it was to be the shock and awe option.

“Have you laundered my panties?” she asked.

Samuel’s vacant stare told her all she needed to know.

“It seems that you don’t really understand the new dynamic, do you?”

The question was rhetorical and so she carried on regardless.

“So you need to be taught a lesson,” she continued. “I had a look through your sordid little videos and came across this one, from one of the little whores you presumably wank over.”

Tara threw down a flash drive on the table.

So you’re going to do exactly as the little whore describes and if you’re good I might let you watch. If you fail then, like she says you’ll be cleaning the toilets with your tongue.

So this Friday night, that’s two nights away, you’re going to find me a prime specimen of a man, bring him here and I’m going to fuck him. Be ready or like your little slut says you’ll be cleaning the toilet bowl with your tongue from now on.”

The flash drive contained the following video

https://deu.xhamster.com/videos/pr-find-me-a-boyfriend-honey-xhMdXB3

On it a girl instructed her wimp husband or boyfriend to find her a real man to fuck. If he did well he could watch, perhaps more. If he didn’t he would be punished.

Tara walked out of the room without another word. She changed into her skin tight Lycra exercise clothes and drove to the gym where she hit the cardio machines hard.
 
(Part One of a two-part post)


Figuratively speaking, this was a kick in the balls - another kick in the balls - for poor Samuel. In a more literal sense, it felt more like a kick in the gut -- he literally felt the pain as if he'd been kicked there. He didn't even have a chance to respond before his beautiful sexy wife left him standing there with his jaw open - not that he could have formulated a comprehensible response.

How ironic that his plan on returning home was to sign on to his computer and do a search for divorce lawyers - someone who could help him hang on to what was rightfully his - the house and half the contents therein, along with half their savings, and half their investments. Instead, he turned on his computer so he could watch the video, then sign on to find his wife a "boyfriend" for Friday night. Someone to fuck her on Friday night. Only two nights away. Even in his confused state, he knew how difficult that would be.

While males were lusting over Tara at the gym, Samuel started watching the video a second time, but realized halfway through he was zoning out and not paying attention to what he was supposed to be doing. So he started it a third time, and took notes.

good looking
muscular and fit
not too stupid
money
clean
well groomed
fashion sense
nice big thick juicy dick

looking for someone to fuck my wife
not just one night stand
several boyfriends on the side to date
good personality
handsome
nice big dick

pictures of face, body and penis

ready to fuck all night long

the opposite of me

someone to ravage wife
someone she'll want to ride all night long


Poor Samuel was trebling by the time the video ended.

He couldn't do this! Sure he had masturbated numerous times over this video pretending it was Tara talking to him, but that was only fantasy. NOT something he wanted to really happen.

She couldn't MAKE him clean her toilets with his tongue, could she? How could she make him clean her toilets???

He then realized he thought of both toilets in the house as "hers" and not theirs - and certainly not his. He thought of everything in the house as Tara's. Her car was kept in the garage while his belonged outside on the driveway. She now had the Master Bedroom to herself while he lived in a guest room. All he owned was the bit of junk that had collected in his "home office" - and that was because Miss Tara wouldn't want any of it.

His job had stagnated while she kept advancing in her company, and her income now exceeded his. She was too good for him even before she transformed herself into a sexy goddess. Now he didn't even belong in the same Universe as Tara. As Tara and ... her new friends.

Without him even realizing it, over the past couple of months they had been spending less and less time with "their" friends, and more and more time with "her" new friends. It wasn't anything big, but it was definitely happening - only he hadn't realized it earlier.

"Never underestimate the power of a woman." He might very well be cleaning her toilets with his tongue two days from now.

Samuel began a search of dating sites while deciding he should keep the toilets as clean and disinfected as he possibly could by the usual means, just in case Miss Tara made him clean them with his tongue if he failed to find her a suitable date.
 
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(Part two of two)



"Intelligent handsome man with large cock wanted - someone for my beautiful sexy wife to ride all night long."

A few other details went into the ad - well groomed, good fashion sense, "someone whom my goddess wife would love to date as well as have sex with."

The theater, not professional wrestling.

Money. "A goddess deserves to ride in a car befitting royalty. If you don't make good money, don't waste your time and mine by responding."

Clean and well groomed.

Fashion sense.

Also, he thought it would be good if they lived within a certain radius from their neighborhood. Miss Tara would want him close enough to date, or even to meet for sex, on short notice. No long-distance relationships.

===

Samuel paused for a bit, not believing he was actually doing this. He needed a break before sending the ad he'd composed. He left the computer to go clean Miss Tara's toilets - the old fashioned way. Then he returned to the task at hand.

===

No mention had been made of age or race, so Samuel didn't mention it either. He certainly didn't want to rule out anyone Miss Tara didn't tell him to exclude, and he feared she might demand to see the ads he posted on the four dating sites he found.

Sam didn't have any experience on dating sites, but he was intelligent enough to know what he would find. His ad would bring ... dozens? hundreds? of responses. Almost all those responses would be from idiots and liars. Most were easy to spot right away, but it still took time to sort through them all. He sent his boss an email claiming he was sick and needed to take a couple of days off. Laurie could certain confirm he didn't look well earlier in the day.

Then the responses began to appear. It was just as he expected:

Eliminate the ones with indecipherable text speak.
Eliminate the ones with any text speak.
Eliminate the ones which showed no class. "Class" wasn't mentioned by either Princess Rene in the video, or by Miss Tara before she left for the gym, but it was clear the subject line "gonna impale dat bitch on my 14 inch monster dick" probably didn't come from a man who would give an amazing woman like Miss Tara the intellectual stimulation she needed along with the physical.
And also, he would eliminate the ones who sent dick pictures, but not the other pictures requested. (He correctly presumed they were all stolen anyway.)

There were even a few dozen men responding who wanted to submit to the wife/goddess.

After narrowing down the selections considerably, Samuel began running pictures through a reverse image search to see if any of the applicants had simply stolen some pictures off the internet.

All this time, Samuel's little penis remained flaccid - a far cry from it's reaction to watching the video all the other times, pretending it was Tara doing the talking. Still, despite the fact he wasn't aroused, he was starting to get very into finding a "suitable date" for his wife.

Maybe it was the threat of cleaning toilets with his tongue - but maybe it was more. Maybe it's because there was that part of him that was so devoted to Miss Tara that he wanted to ensure her happiness by finding a suitable mate.

He still planned to research divorce lawyers, but didn't have time now. Her date with her new boyfriend was Friday evening, and he hadn't even found her new boyfriend yet.
 
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Tara went to work on Thursday as usual. She exchanged some suggestive texts with Marco during the day, which made her feel horny. She knew their relationship wasn’t going anywhere but she was glad she’d met him. He’d opened her eyes to so much and she was really looking forward to Saturday night and her first swinger party with him.

In the afternoon she sent Samuel a terse text.

“How are you doing with your project. I want to review progress with you this evening.”

She was glad she’d set Samuel the task. It was or break for him. If he stepped up then perhaps there was a way for them to continue to live together. If he continued to be in denial, like he was over the panties then it was over between them. He could keep his stuffy house, she wanted to live somewhere more exciting anyway and on her salary she could afford it

Tara wondered if samuel would find anyone for her. She knew it was a big ask. But she found herself getting turned on over fucking some bull of a guy in front of him. What was she turning into? she giggled to herself.

Anyway, she’d find out how he’d done that evening.
 
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Sam realized too late that the ad he'd placed on four different dating sites probably sounded as fake as some of the dick pics he'd been sent. Women sometimes advertise on those sites, but a husband looking for a bull for his wife? Yeah, probably fake.

So, he went to a couple more dating sites - one's he'd passed over the first time around because they were fairly expensive (to him) pay sites. Tara was worth it. He joined, pretending this time to be the woman in search of a man to rock her Friday night.

Needless to say, the first response was from a guy who sent a picture of a tiny penis that had just cum into the frilly pink panties he was wearing. If Tara ever wants her feet worshiped by an undeserving worm, she's covered. As he received other responses, the process began all over again with a new batch of responses - weeding out the fakes.

When his wife's text arrived, he responded "Working diligently to find one or more men who meet your criteria, Miss Tara. I love you."

Naturally, they all asked for pictures of the woman looking for a good fuck. The picture he chose to send didn't show her face, but it was obvious that a woman with a body and hair as perfect as Tara's could not help but have a beautiful face, too. He only shared that picture with a half dozen men who'd passed the first few tests. From time to time, Sam's dick would get hard looking at pictures of Tara's prospective lovers, but the task she had given him was a difficult one. He lost a few more prospects when he responded that he wanted to meet with them before he introduced them to his wife.

A few minutes before Tara arrived home, he only had three "prospects" - and feared none of them were up to Miss Tara's standards, but they were the best he could find on such short notice. He compiled a page on each one, showing every picture each man sent along with all their conversations copied/pasted onto the page.

There was Ted, a firefighter: (not overly muscular, but as a firefighter was probably very fit) --

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Rick, whose occupation he didn't share but supplied a photo of him in the driver's seat of a Ferrari --

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Matthew, a student from Kenya whose English wasn't perfect but claimed his government official father made sure he wasn't lacking for "pocket money" as he studied to be a physician. When Sam commented on his dress, Matthew assured him he owned a number of expensive suits and would hire a very nice limo to pick up his date.

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===

Samuel's heart sank as he realized none of these men looked like the muscular fitness models he'd envisioned finding, and Miss Tara was expecting to be introduced to her date in little over 24 hours. He would keep trying, as of Thursday afternoon this all is he had.
 
Tara was disappointed when she saw the results. A pretty boy, a show off and someone who was possibly a con artist were hardly what she was expecting.

In her mind she knew it would be difficult to find someone, anyone in fact, at such short notice. In a way she felt sorry for setting such an impossible task. But in another she felt it just made her next move easier. Either she got the fuck she wanted or she got rid of the husband. Both outcomes were a win for her.

“Is that the best you can do?” She asked Samuel. “After I told you what I wanted.”

Samuel offered no defence. It occurred to her that he was deliberately not trying.

“I’ll be staying at the Hilton downtown tomorrow night. Either you turn up at 8 with a suitable guy tomorrow night or I’ll find one of my own.”

Tara was annoyed. Not so much at the outcome but at the fact that Samuel seemed incapable of satisfying her at any level. If he told her he loved her one more time then she swore she couldn’t be held responsible for her actions.

She went up to her room and packed an overnight bag for the following night then went to the gym to burn off some frustration.
 
Ironically, the difficulty Samuel was having in finding the perfect date for his wife was something of a blessing in disguise. Working diligently and almost non-stop didn't provide him time to reflect on what he was doing and what was happening to his marriage.

Now, with Miss Tara's latest demands, he realized how hopeless his situation was. That's when it all came to the forefront and the tears began again. Fortunately, he was able to keep it together until after she left the room -- and he certainly didn't have to worry about her checking in on him before going out again.

He halfheartedly looked through a few more ads. The pay sites might have excluded a lot of the losers who weren't able to think through the process, but it didn't eliminate them all.

The next best prospects were still not good prospects. A man who might be marginally more handsome than all the others, but probably older than her father. On the other end of the spectrum, a barely legal (IF he even was legal) kid trying to look more muscular than he was. Then there was the guy in a turban. Not Tara's style either - or so he imagined. They'd never discussed beards and turbans, as Samuel had always been clean-shaven and never thought about wearing a turban.

Then, with a start, he realized what he had to do. It was the worst feeling yet, and he'd never felt more debased than he did the moment he hit "send" on the text.

===

"There's something I need to discuss with you in person. Tonight if at all possible - if not then no later than early tomorrow morning. It's very important, please get back to me asap with where and when you can meet."

===



If they were in high school, Frank Lowery would be Samuel's bully. If they were on an athletic team, Frank would be the star and team captain while Samuel rode the bench and passed out towels. As it was, they worked for the same company, but thankfully in different departments. Still, their duties often brought them together and there was that unspoken understanding that Frank was in charge, even though he'd been with the company half as long as Sam.

What made it all even worse is that almost NOBODY ELSE thought Frank was an asshole. He flirted with other men's wives (including his) at the annual Christmas party and nobody thought anything of it. "Don't these women even know what an ass he is?" Apparently not, as they giggled and flirted back. "He's just being flirtatious." "It's just his nature." "He doesn't mean it." He couldn't mean it, because he flirted with the ones who were not particularly desirable, too. Like Tara used to be. Even when Tara was at her ... heaviest and lowest self-esteem period ... Frank would find things to compliment her on. Her hair, or the way the blouse she wore brought out her eyes.

Even when he KNEW Frank wasn't interested in her sexually, Sam couldn't help but be jealous of the affect he had on Tara even though Tara knew he couldn't really be interested in her when there were so many other sexier women throwing themselves at him.

Frank Lowery started with the company after an injury sidelined his career his first year playing with the NFL. It was by no means a debilitating injury, just one that prevented his competing against the very best professionals in the world. He still kept in shape - perhaps even imagining one day he would return to the world of professional sports. Even now, rumor had it that a couple of universities were courting him to take a coaching job.

Frank didn't seem to act any differently toward Tara after she transformed herself into the desirable goddess. He was one of the few men at the office who didn't. He certainly acted different around Sam, making little comments about Tara that bordered on inappropriate for the workplace, but never quite crossed the line. Sam knew just what a snake in the grass he was.



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And now he was going to ask Frank Lowery to fuck his wife.
 
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Tara’s day was busy on Friday. Not leaving her much time to think about Samuel’s failure or even to sext with Marco.

After work she checked into the Hilton and took advantage of the in-house gym and sauna before returning to her room to shower and shave her pussy, although she wasn’t sure why she was bothering.

She stepped out the shower, dried herself off then slipped into the fluffy white dressing gown they always provide in decent hotels. It was a bit big for her. One size doesn't fit all but she could manage. As she walked back into the bedroom she caught the reflection of herself in the mirror. She looked stressed she thought.

Undoing the oversized dressing gown she took it off again to consider the rest of her body. She ran a hand up her smooth flat abs and cupped one of her firm breasts squeezing the nipple between her thumb and forefinger. She was reassured. For a woman of thirty six she looked good.

"I'd fuck me if i was a man," she told herself.

Lying back on the bed she hitched up her legs and parted her thighs. Using her index finger she located the nub of her clitoris then used her forefinger as well to tease it until it was hard. The she closed her eyes and pleasured herself to the thought of a guy with a huge cock ploughing her as she lay there...
 
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Frank couldn't begin to imagine what Sammy wanted to speak with him about that could be so urgent. The guy did tend to get excited over things nobody else got excited about. Some people called Sam conscientious. Frank called it annoying. Whatever. If Sam wanted to meet with him so urgently about something so important, then Sam could make the 15 mile drive through city traffic.

"Kelley's Bar at 8:00 sharp" was his only response. Kelley's bar was only about a block from Frank's apartment. He could walk it easily, have a beer, listen to whatever Sam had to say, then be done with it. He damn sure wasn't going to upset his morning schedule for someone as insignificant to his career as Sammy Parker.

--

Sam left in plenty of time to get to Kelley's before 8:00, or so he thought. Parking in that neighborhood was a bitch, especially after the frustration of trying to navigate through the city on the tail end of rush hour. He was three minutes late to a meeting he'd planned to arrive at 15 minutes early. Thank goodness he hadn't planned to arrive at 8:00.

Kelley's was a sort of sports bar, or so it appeared. It was a little loud for Sam's taste, but it didn't matter - maybe in this case loud would be good. It's not like he had to talk over the noise.

Frank was easy enough to spot, even sitting down. There was a waitress at his table, wearing very tight and very short shorts, bending over to place his beer on the table and lingering there a little too long. Ordinarily Sam might be aroused by the sight, but not tonight. The waitress gave him a disapproving look when he sat down, and didn't even bother to take his order as she rushed over to another table full of men who talked too loud but tipped big when they got tipsy.

"I just wanted to be on the safe side" he said reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out an envelope. "I didn't want to send this in an email or text, and if I tried telling you what this was about, I'd just mess it all up. Here."

Frank was even more perplexed now. He took the crumpled envelope and opened it to read the proposal Sammy had typed out for him earlier in the evening.

==

"Tara has asked me to find her a 'date' for Friday night. You are the only person I know who fits the criteria and might be available on such short notice. Attractive, muscular, fit, fashion sense, good personality" -- that last one had been hard for Sam to write, knowing who he was giving the letter to. "and I presume, well endowed. I was torn between trying to find a stranger, and someone I know personally. I know she'll be safe with you, and I hope this doesn't affect either of us in the work environment.

"She wants to humiliate me by having me accompany you to the hotel in which she will be waiting. I do not know if she plans for me to stay or not. As for whether there will be future dates, that is something she will discuss with you.

"As much as this hurts, I hope you'll say yes. She will be very upset if I don't find someone suitable.

"She will have a room at the Downtown Hilton and we are to meet her in the bar at 8:00 o'clock. She does not know you are the one I'm asking. I don't know yet if she wants to know, or if I'm supposed to surprise her with my selection."

==

Even Frank was a little taken aback by this turn of events. His first instinct was to ask if this is some kind of joke, but he didn't, because obviously it wasn't. Poor little Sammy looked like he wanted to cry. He was sure Sam didn't pick him out of a sense of friendship, but because Tara wanted a "real man" to fuck for a change, and Frank was the best man for that job.

He also resisted the urge to laugh out loud, though he couldn't suppress the smile.

"Have you ever done anything like this before?"

Sam shook his head no.

"You know if this is some kind of sick joke, I'll kill you."

Sam could only whisper - even though the bar was noisy the message got through. "It's not a joke."

With Frank, the bully was never far from the surface. "You were five minutes late getting here. Be at the Hilton 30 minutes early and wait for me. I'll be on time. A sexy woman like Tara shouldn't be kept waiting - especially by a loser like you." Then he got up to go, telling the waitress the guy at his table would pay the tab, but slipped some money into her pocket for the tip.

===

Sam arrived at the hotel 30 minutes early, but waited in the lobby, looking nervous as an expectant father. He was dressed as he might for work, in slacks and a sport coat with tie, and had to explain twice to someone on the staff he had misjudged the time and was waiting for someone.

When his "rival" walked in the door, it was as if the man had stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine. The contrast was so pronounced it was if the two men might as well be from different planets. Frank, with his charming smile, walked up to Sam who couldn't even look the man in the eye.

"Lead the way, chump" he said, his 'pat' on Sam's shoulder way harder than it needed to be. It was the lowest point in Samuel's life - so far. He knew it was about to get worse.
 
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After satisfying her own immediate needs, Tara felt more relaxed. She ordered a light snack from the room service menu and ate it while watching some television. She liked staying in hotels, she liked the service but most of all she liked the anonymity that went with them. You could be anyone you wanted in a hotel.

Scrolling through her phone she'd picked out a few bars that might be worth visiting later, after Samuel had inevitably let her down. Alternatively perhaps she'd just stay in the hotel bar and try to pick someone up there. Although on Fridays, hotels were generally full of couples rather than single guys, unless of course there was a stag party. Now that would be fun.

Tara would never have believed that she could be this wanton. Most of it was down to losing weight and of course she did have a lot to thank Marco for too, even if he wasn't going to be the beneficiary tonight. But it struck her that the main reason that she was here was because of how pathetic her husband was. Maybe she should be thanking him as well.

Because she was going to meet Samuel in the hotel bar she decided to dress reasonably conservatively. She'd brought some nice underwear with stockings and suspenders with her, but she didn't want to be mistaken for a hooker. So instead she wore a simple summer dress that flattered her figure.

As it got closer to 8pm she found herself getting frustrated at what she was fairly certain was going to be a waste of time but when it came to leave the room she was prepared for the worst.

When she walked into the hotel bar she immediately spotted Samuel, although she didn't immediately notice that he was with someone but as she got closer she recognised Frank and he looked stunning. Tara had always liked Frank, he'd taken the time to talk to her at company parties, even flirted with her, when clearly there were more attractive women keen for his attention. She suddenly felt butterflies in her stomach. She hadn't seen Frank since losing her weight.

"Samuel," she said curtly then turned her attention to his colleague. "Frank, what a pleasant surprise. I hadn't realised that Sam would cast his net so close to home."

"Tara, it's been ages," Frank said, standing up to embrace her. "You look stunning by the way. I almost didn't recognise you but for that devilish smile of yours. What would you like to drink?'

"A Cosmopolitan, I think. Thank you."

All Frank had to do was raise a hand and a waiter noticed him immediately. That had never happened with Samuel. Frank instructed the waiter who then disappeared to get the drink.

"I take it you're understand why you're here?" Tara asked, wanting to clarify things up front.

"Your husband explained that he needed my help in satisfying one of your fantasies."

"This one's more my husband's fantasy," Tara explained

Frank looked at Samuel almost smirking.

"You see my husband is a wimp," Tara explained. "He likes to pleasure himself while watching videos of women telling him how pathetic he is. So this evening he's getting a taste of what it feels like to have his dirty little fantasies come true."

"I see," Frank said smiling.

"Does that put you off?"

"No not at all."

"Good, because I want him to watch as you fuck me. But i don't want his pathetic little hands touching me."

"That's fine with me Tara."

They stopped for a moment for the waiter to deliver Tara's Cosmopolitan.

"Here's to a pleasant evening," Tara said, downing the Cosmopolitan in one. "I'm going to leave you now, while i go upstairs and change into something more appropriate. I hope you like stockings and suspenders Frank. Here is the spare key to my room. Come up to it, both of you, in fifteen minutes time."

With that, Tara left. She was nervous as hell now but it was excitement. She rushed back up to her room, stripped off her clothes, bundling them into a drawer, then she slipped into her lingerie. She placed the chair from the writing desk in the corner of the room. That was to be Samuel's seat. Then she placed a pre ordered bottle of champagne in the ice bucket on the desk putting out only two glasses. Finally, having dimmed the lights she lay back on the bed and waited.
 
Tara's speech had not been a long one, but the change that came over Samuel - the additional changes - were pronounced. He could look at neither his lovely wife nor the bully who was going to fuck her. He just stared at the floor, red with embarrassment as she degraded him in front of another man - a better man - and he began trembling.

Sam felt like he needed to throw up, but since his stomach was empty that wasn't very likely to happen. The waiter hadn't even bothered to ask if Sam wanted anything to drink. He would have said no, but the fact wasn't lost on him that he might as well have been invisible in the presence of the other two more beautiful people. He wished he was invisible.

After Tara left to go up to her room to prepare herself for her new lover, Sam remained silent, wiping away a couple of tears that had appeared. Naturally, it was Frank, the real man, to whom she gave the key to her room.

"So, she found your porn stash, huh? Women calling you pathetic?"

"Please" Sam whispered, a plea for Frank to not humiliate him any more than he was already humiliated.

He wasn't so merciful. "Well I hope she lets you keep watching porn. God knows you don't deserve to be watching her. Maybe I'll put in a good word for you. After all, we men have to stick together, right?" he said, laughing and slapping Sam on the back, looking as if two guys were enjoying a joke or funny story.

==

Frank didn't want to be late, so they took the elevator up to Tara's floor and arrived at the door with a full minute and a half to go. Frank used that time to bully and intimidate Samuel some more. Admonishing him not to even think about touching Tara, or Frank would beat the shit out of him. Telling him not to speak unless spoken to.

A full minute to go.

"So, tell me about this porn she caught you watching."

"Please" Sam pleaded again.

"Well, I'm waiting..."

Frank had been talking softly, not wanting to disturb anyone inside their hotel rooms, but when Sam mentioned the woman in the video threatening to make her hubby clean toilets with his tongue, he burst out laughing. "You really are a pathetic little fuck, getting off to that shit. So tell me.. how big is your cock?"

Sam looked down without answering, embarrassed.

"That big, huh?" he laughed again.

It was time.. he inserted the card into the lock and told "Sammy" (loud enough for Tara to hear clearly) to follow and behave himself if he knows what's good for him.
 
The sight that greeted Frank and then Sam as they entered the room was of Tara reclining on the bed. She wore a delicate floral silk wrap, under which was a matching bra brief and suspender set, completed by a pair of sheer tan stockings on her legs.

Once they were both in the room Tara turned her attention to Frank.

“Do you like what you see?” she asked coyly.

“Very much Tara,” Frank replied.

“Good. I was hoping you’d say that,” she giggled girlishly. “Because I very much like what I see too.”

Then, turning her attention to Sam she spoke to him without the same affection in her voice.

“Go into the bathroom and take your clothes off,” she instructed, “and don’t come out until one of us tell you you can. Frank and I have to get to know each other first.”

Sam disappeared into the bathroom closing the door behind him.

“There’s champagne in the ice bucket. Would you be a dear and pour us a glass.”

Frank opened the champagne bottle without spilling a drop then filled the glasses and handed one to Tara. The two of them chinked their glasses together and both said “Cheers” then they kissed for the first time. Frank was a good kisser and for a moment Tara went weak at the knees.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Frank asked.

“Very,” Tara replied.

“Any way you want to approach it?”

“I want you to ravage me. I want Sam to see what a whore I can be and while you’re ravaging me I want you to give Sam a running commentary on how you’re enjoying it and make sure he knows what a pathetic little worm he is. “

“It will be a pleasure. Shall I go and get him?”

“Why not….”
 
Sam was NOT enjoying any of this - it was a far cry from his reaction to the humiliation videos he was so fond of watching. To add horror on top of horror, he was thinking of other videos which Tara may not have even seen yet, which made this "fantasy" tame by comparison. Add to that the looming threat made by Frank to beat him if she didn't behave himself.

As if that wasn't enough, once he was completely undressed and his clothes folded neatly on the counter ... his little dick got hard. Not started to get hard.. it was hard. Hard as a rock. Or in his case, hard as a pebble. Could he even survive one more indignity, such as them laughing at him thinking he was aroused by what was happening to him? He wasn't aroused.. he just.. he just.. involuntarily got hard. After all, it had been three days since he last came.

Cold water. That's what he thought.. soak a washcloth in cold water from the sink and wrap it around his dick. Cold was supposed to make erections go away, right?

Not in this case. Now he had a wet erect dick and feared he would be summoned at any moment. He was drying off his dick with a hand towel when Frank abruptly opened the door and burst out laughing.

"He's trying to jerk off" he informed Tara.

"No I wasn't...." Sam responded quickly, but then why bother. That's exactly what it looked like, and they didn't care to listen to any alternative explanations.

"Get your ass out here, and throw that towel in the corner so Tara doesn't accidentally use it later."

Tara may not have, in recent years, pictured Samuel as "pathetic" - but at the moment he exited the bathroom she had never seen anything so pathetic in her life. How could a man be so scrawny and so pudgy at the same time? And that expression on his face! Priceless! Standing beside a real man, with a manly body -- to the casual observer Sam might look like someone who had not yet entered puberty. The only clue was the little hard-on, but he had that covered with both hands.

Naturally, his eyes were on the floor -- except when they couldn't resist the urge to look upon the perfection that was his goddess/wife.
 
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