SPH-THEMED EROTICA STORIES

“I saw you.”

“Yeah?” she smiled, sitting propped up on the pillows of our bed.

“With him.”

“That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?” she smirked.

“His hands….on your skin.”

“Mmmm, yeah…he’s got big…strong…hands.”

She lay back on the bed I had bought her with a wistful smile of remembrance.

“Did, did…”

“You know he did. You wanted it….but, baby, shit, I wanted it more.”

Her left hand pushed at her own knee, opening her leg. Her right hand crossed her chest and pinched her left nipple. Pulling it. Twisting.

I stood there. Mute. Impotent. My breathing thready and shallow. My pulse racing. It was like I was watching myself in a movie, watching my wife.

“You don’t get to be mad. You opened this up.”

Her eyes flashed at mine.

“I’m…not mad.”

“Good. Because it’s going to happen again. Tonight. You opened this marriage up….and he’s going to open me up. You’re going to have to go somewhere else tonight.”

Both her thighs were open now, stretching the thin cotton of her nightgown. Both nipples gone hard.

“God. My God.”

“Hehe…that’s what I was saying last night. My thighs are so fucking sore. He really had something he was needing to work out….are you two in a good place?”

Her feet were touching sole to sole, knees bent and touching the mattress. The first two fingers of her right hand were spreading her pussy apart. Running up and down the angry, puffy lips.

“I… I… guess. I don’t know.”

“Because I know sometimes brothers fight…is that it. Were you fighting? Is that why he was so rough with me? Was he punishing me because he’s mad at you?”

She stared at me. Holding her cunt open wide. Her left hand on top of her mons. Her left index finger circled her clit, lewdly.

“Wha…? No….I…don’t…”

“Mmmm…Keep pissing him off, baby. It’s really working for me. Want to see the bruises on my hips? Come here, look?”

She used both hands to jerk her nightgown up under her tits.

I didn’t look. I just looked at the carpet.

“I didn’t mean for it to be my brother, Kylie! I don’t know what to say…”

I stood there impotent.

“You don’t get to say anything, Michael. You agreed to that. Remember? You wanted this. I requested it, and you confirmed it was my choice and that you wouldn’t have input. Get nothing, actually, just the knowledge that I’m fucking other men. You wanted it to be my choice….Well, I chose, Michael.”

“I can’t do this…”

Her head leaned back, and her eyes narrowed. Her right hand went to her right nipple and gathered it up in a twist. Her left hand slid across her hip to her cheating cunt. I watched two fingers slide inside without resistance.

“Then divorce me, Michael, leave me right now and go tell your mother that big brother is fucking your wife. Oh! Be sure to tell her I said that he’s REALLY your BIG brother. But I bet she already knows… don’t cry… You asked me for this, Michael. You couldn’t have known that I’ve wanted to fuck your brother for a few years now.”

“How could you, Kylie?”

“It was easy…well, mmmmmm…actually that’s not true. Damn, he really had to stretch me out to get in me, Michael. So deep and wide. Do you want to see it? He really wrecked me. If I let you fuck me right now, you could feel the difference, I promise. I’m not tight anymore. But that’s not going to happen, is it, Michael? You don’t get to have me yet, do you?”

Three fingers on her left hand were inside her now…two fingers from her right hand were tugging on the other side of her opened hole. Her wedding ring glinted and sparkled in the light of the bedside lamp.

“No, you don’t. You know what you’re going to have to do to get to have me again, don’t you? Remember? And it’s too late now… you’ll have to wait for tomorrow morning. I won’t take a shower before you get home. Give you a chance to start to pay for an orgasm. You have to eat it 6 times… that’s what you wanted… then you get unlocked. That’s what you begged me to do to you.”

Her knees were pulled back in the air now. Six fingers inside her. Her pussy open towards me. My caged cock was bent and aching and trying to get hard.

“Make you a cumeater…a sissy… how do you like it? Bitch?”

I almost collapsed from the pressure of my cock against the 1-inch metal cage.

“Is your little dick hard, Michael? I bet it is. I bet you get hard thinking about your big beast of a brother pounding into it, cumming into your wife’s pussy.”

God, I did. I pictured it—a ghostly overlay of the wanton scene of masturbation before me.

“No, no…You can’t do this to us.”

“You. You did this to us. This is your fantasy… well, the beginning of it, anyway. Maybe you didn’t know that I was going to offer your brother the opportunity to bully up my pussy, but…you didn’t say not to. So…don’t you sit there and blame me for the way you feel right now. I feel really pretty, powerful, and attractive, and if the deal were different, I’d let you and your brother share me. But that wasn’t your fantasy, was it? You wanted to be locked in chastity and forced into eating creampie to get any relief. So, here we are… you’re locked and feeling sad, and your brother is trying to knock me up… so… see you in the morning? I’ll keep your first creampie warm for you.”

“I won’t…I won’t do that, Kylie.”

She was almost entirely curled into a ball with only her face and pussy pointed towards me from our marriage bed. Her feet were in the air. She was easily running both hands across her still gaping cunny. She was actively leaking and rubbing it into her soft skin like a balm. I was watching her lose herself in her own pleasure.

“I think you will. You wanted to hear all about my lover, Michael… sit down, bitch…no…sit down right there in the hallway like a naughty schoolboy. It’s not your bedroom anymore. Your bedroom’s downstairs from now on…mmmm….let me tell you what turns your brother on about fucking your wife. I think he was really turned on when he had to work his cock into my tight little pussy. His cock had to be almost a foot long and at least twice as thick as yours. Damn, that stretch was so good, baby; your wife was squealing and making noises you’ve never heard.”

“But you know what really turned him on? When I told him I felt a little guilty and a little naughty because when I married you I became his sister. Yeah, I gave him the Joe Dirt baby! I hollered, I’m your sister, I’m your sister, while he fucked and rutted and pounded into me like a goddamn animal. He came so fucking much, babe! Well you’ll just have to swallow it to believe it.”

“So from now on you sleep downstairs. Down on that old leather couch your parents gave us. There’s only room now on this bed for men who fuck.”

She looked at my face again, her fingers rhythmically pressing into her pussy three at a time. Left then right. I’d never seen her so stretched and open. I could smell her sex from the hallway, where I sat, helplessly gripping the cage around my useless dick.

“Oh, and don’t be surprised the next time you see us together if he’s calling me Sister and I’m calling him Brother Bobby. That’ll be our kinky little thrill! A little inside joke. I wonder how long it will take your parents to pick up on it.”

Her giggle was wicked. Knowing.

“Do you mind if he takes pictures, baby? He wanted to be able to show his friends.”

Her eyes told me that he already had pictures. My heart sank as my cock throbbed with the humiliation.

“I promise you he’s going to come back. He’s going to get horny again. And I know now why he’s not married. Do you want to know why? Because a man with a cock like that…a giant fucking horse cock like your brother’s…doesn’t need to get married to get hot and cold running pussy. He’s not like you and that tiny little pecker you have.”

I sank lower. Spiritually and physically. Crushed by her casual cruelty. Her smirking laugh at my deficiency.

“I’m going to keep fucking your brother Michael…and probably my boss because I want a raise and honestly, I’ll probably fuck that kid that mows the grass at some point….how about…I fuck them all six times each. If you aren’t eating sloppy seconds by then, I’ll tell you which of my friends is holding the keys to your cage, and you can go get unlocked and file for divorce.”

“Sound good? Just remember to be really honest with your lawyer about why you don’t want to live with me anymore.”

She threw her head back and started literally assaulting her clit with two fingers of her right hand while spanking her pussy with the left. Good hard slaps that echoed through my broken home.

“Mmmm, GOD yeah uh yeah uh mmmmm urggg fuuuuuuck,” she said, looking at me with a blank stare, looking through me.

“I lied….Not about your big dicked brother….Mmmm,” she said, breathless from her orgasm.

“Your mother has the keys to your cage, bitch.”

—

Three weeks. That’s how long it took Michael to eat his way to five.

Kylie kept count on the refrigerator door with a dry-erase marker, little pink hearts next to each entry like a child tracking chores. Heart one: Tyler, Tuesday. He’d come home from work to find her freshly fucked, thighs sticky, panties hanging off the doorknob like a flag of surrender. Heart two: her boss, the golf weekend. She’d made Michael lick her clean in the parking lot of the country club, her skirt hiked up in the back seat, his tongue working while Mr. Hollis’s load dripped out of her and she scrolled her phone. Heart three: Dex, the college sophomore who mowed their lawn. She’d paid him extra, then made Michael pay her for the privilege of cleanup. Hearts four and five: two of Tyler’s friends after poker night, one after the other, Kylie flat on her back in the guest room while Michael knelt beside the bed with a hard-on straining against plastic, waiting for his meal like a dog beside the table.

By the fifth, Michael had stopped crying. That was the part that terrified him most—the crying had stopped before the wanting did.

 

 

Friday night, she came home with Tyler.

“Tonight’s the sixth, sweetheart,” Kylie said, dropping her keys in the bowl by the door. “And since it’s the special one, you get to watch it get made.”

Tyler walked in behind her, tall and easy, the same cruel smile he’d had since he was sixteen. He didn’t even look at Michael. He went to the fridge and got a beer like he owned the place. In a way, Michael thought, he did.

“Strip and kneel at the foot of the bed,” Kylie said. “Face it. Don’t you dare look away.”

Michael undressed. The cage caught the bedroom light as he knelt, the little brass padlock swinging between his legs. Tyler undressed too, unhurried, and Michael had to watch that as well—had to watch his wife’s eyes drop to his brother’s cock and light up like a slot machine hitting jackpot. Thick, heavy, half-hard before she’d even touched it. Michael’s own dick, all four useless inches of it, pressed against the curve of the cage until it hurt.

Kylie peeled off her dress—no bra, no panties, she hadn’t bothered with either in weeks—and stretched out on the bed. She crooked a finger at Tyler.

“C’mere, big boy. Show my husband how a real man opens me up.”

Tyler climbed onto the bed and fed her his cock, and Kylie sucked it with her eyes locked on Michael the entire time. She moaned around the head, drooling down the shaft, making a show of it—loud, wet, worshipful. Things she’d never once done for Michael, even when they were dating, even on his birthday.

“God, I missed this mouth,” Tyler groaned, gathering her hair in his fist.

“Missed it?” Kylie popped off him, stroking his spit-shined length. “You had it Tuesday. And Thursday.” She winked at Michael. “Your brother stops by when you’re at work, honey. Tuesdays and Thursdays. Like a delivery schedule.”

Tyler laughed. Michael’s face burned hot enough to cook on.

Then Tyler pushed her back, spread her thighs, and pushed in. Kylie’s whole body arched off the mattress, her mouth falling open in a long, shameless groan that Michael had never once pulled out of her.

“Ohhh—fuck— there it is,” she panted, hooking her legs around his waist. “That’s what a cock feels like, Michael. Are you watching? Are you taking notes?”

Michael was watching. He couldn’t look away if he wanted to, and the worst part—the part that made him sick with himself—was that he didn’t want to. His wife’s tits bounced with every thrust. Tyler’s ass flexed as he drove into her, balls slapping her wet and loud, the headboard knocking the wall in a rhythm Michael knew he’d hear in his sleep for the rest of his life. Kylie came twice before Tyler even broke a sweat, her nails raking his back, screaming words Michael had only ever heard her say to him in his own fantasies—fuck me, harder, don’t stop, you’re so fucking big—

“Get up here,” Tyler grunted near the end, “I want to look at him when I finish.”

Kylie laughed breathlessly and rolled on top of him, riding Tyler in a reverse cowgirl so she could face her husband, too. Both of them stared down at Michael on his knees while they fucked. Kylie’s face was flushed, gorgeous, and vicious.

“That’s it, baby,” she cooed, grinding down on her brother-in-law’s cock. “Look at his little face. Look how hard he’s trying not to hump the mattress. You want this, don’t you, Michael? You want what he’s getting? Say it.”

Michael’s voice cracked. “I—I want it.”

“Want what? Say the whole thing.”

“I want—” His throat closed. Kylie reached down and pinched her own nipple, waiting. “I want to fuck you. Like he does.”

“Awww.” She smiled like he’d said something adorable. “You can’t, sweetheart. You know you can’t. But you can have the next best thing. Tyler’s about to give you a present.”

Tyler grabbed her hips and slammed up into her, groaning, and Kylie threw her head back.

“Yes—yes—fill me up, give it to me, give it to my husband—”

Tyler buried himself to the hilt and came, cock pulsing, pumping her full while Michael watched every second of it. Kylie rode out the throes of it with a shudder and a sigh, then lifted herself off Tyler’s softening cock and turned around, kneeling on the bed, knees spread.

Cum slid down her inner thigh in a slow white thread.

“Six,” she said softly. “Dinner’s served, honey. Come get it while it’s warm.”

Michael crawled to the bed on his hands and knees. He pressed his mouth to his wife’s freshly fucked pussy and licked, and Kylie sighed contentedly, holding his head with both hands, grinding against his tongue, feeding him every drop his brother had left in her. His cage ached. His eyes stung. He was harder than he’d ever been in his life, trapped and useless and hers.

“Good boy,” she murmured, and that—that—was what finally made the tears come again. “Clean me all up—every bit. There we go. Such a good little husband.”

—

After, Kylie sat cross-legged on the bed in Tyler’s t-shirt and told Michael the price of his orgasm.

“You’ve paid your six,” she said. “But the key isn’t mine to give, remember? Mom has it.” She picked up her phone. “So you’re going to call her. Right now. On speaker. And you’re going to ask her, nicely, to come unlock your little clitty.”

Michael’s stomach dropped through the floor. “Kylie. Please. Not your mother—”

“She’s held the key for three weeks, honey; she’s dying to hear from you.” She was already dialing. “You can do it politely, or I can tell her you refused and she can hold it another month. Your choice. Speaker’s on.”

Diane’s voice filled the bedroom, warm and amused. “Well! If it isn’t my favorite son-in-law. How’s the cage fitting, Michael? Any chafing?”

Michael knelt there, naked, in front of his wife and her lover, and asked his mother-in-law to unlock his cock. Diane made him say it twice, the second time slower. She made him explain why he deserved an orgasm. She made him thank her—thank you, Diane, for raising a woman who knows how to handle a husband like me—and then she laughed, low and delighted, and said she’d be over in twenty minutes, and don’t anyone get dressed on her account.

She was as good as her word. Diane let herself in with her own key, found all three of them in the bedroom, and dangled the little brass key on its ribbon like a hypnotist’s watch. She was fifty-two and looked forty, and she’d clearly had wine with dinner, and she was enjoying this more than anyone should legally be allowed to.

“Look at it,” she said to Tyler, nodding at the cage. “Kylie, you weren’t exaggerating. It’s like a dollhouse.” She crouched, took Michael’s chin in her hand, and turned his face side to side. “You know, I told her from the start. I said, baby, if you’re going to marry a man you can feel in your hand, you’d better keep a real one on the side. Didn’t I say that, Kylie?”

“You did, Mom.”

“And did I raise a fool?”

“No, Mom.”

Diane unlocked the padlock. The cage came apart in two halves, and Michael’s cock sprang out, red and straining and obscenely small next to Tyler’s, which hung soft and heavy and twice his hard size. Diane actually applauded.

“Oh, honey,” she said, and it was almost kind, which made it worse.

—

Kylie lay back on the bed, propped on the pillows, legs open, still loose and slick from Tyler. She patted the mattress.

“Come on, then. You paid for it. Ten strokes.”

Michael climbed between his wife’s thighs, shaking. Three weeks in the cage, three weeks of eating other men’s cum out of her, three weeks of hearing about his brother and her boss and the lawn kid—and now, finally, finally, he was going to be inside her.

He pushed in.

He felt… nothing. Or rather, she felt like nothing—stretched open by a real cock, fucked loose and left that way, and his poor, desperate, average-less inches slid into her like a coin into a lake. Kylie’s expression didn’t change at all. She didn’t gasp. She didn’t shift. She looked at him the way people look at weather.

“Are you in?” she asked.

Michael made a sound that wasn’t a word.

“Because I genuinely can’t tell.” She turned her head toward Tyler. “Can you see anything happening down there?”

“Looks like he’s humping a pillow, honestly.”

Kylie checked her phone. “Okay. Stroke one.”

Michael pulled back and pushed in again, and it was over before stroke four. Three weeks of denial, the sight of his wife’s body, the taste of his brother still on his tongue—and Kylie felt him swell and grabbed his hips and shoved him off her. His orgasm happened in the open air, cum spurting in thin ropes across his own stomach, his cock bobbing and jerking at nothing, the climax ruined and hollow and so good it hurt.

“One, two, three—” Kylie counted the spurts, laughing. “Three little drops! Oh, honey. Oh, sweetheart.” She reached down, scooped his mess off his belly with two fingers, and held it up. “You know the rules. You eat every creampie in this house.”

Michael licked his own cum off his wife’s fingers, kneeling, soft already, while his mother-in-law watched and his brother put his jeans back on.

“Wow,” said Diane.

—

The cage went back on before he’d even gone soft. Kylie did it herself, gentle as a nurse, and clicked the lock shut while Diane held the key.

“So here’s where we are,” Kylie said, snuggling up against Tyler as if Michael weren’t in the room. “You’ve had your orgasm. It cost you three weeks, six creampies, and your dignity, and it lasted”—she checked her phone again—”eleven seconds, and I didn’t feel any of it. And now we go back to normal. Tyler keeps his Tuesdays and Thursdays. My boss keeps his Fridays. Dex mows the lawn twice a week now, for some reason.” She smiled. “You keep the cage. Mom keeps the key. And the next time you want to come, it’ll cost you more, because that’s how pricing works when you’re the only customer for something nobody wants.”

Michael knelt at the foot of the bed, caged again, and asked the only question left in him. “How… how long? How long am I going to live like this?”

Kylie’s smile went soft and slow and evil, and she reached over to the nightstand and picked up her birth control pack. She held it up so he could see the full row of untouched pills.

“See these? I stopped taking them in June,” she said. “Tyler hates condoms. And I’ve decided I want a baby.” She let the pack drop onto the nightstand. “So the way I figure it, in a few weeks we’ll all find out together whether it’s Tyler’s, or my boss’s, or one of the poker boys’. And here’s the fun part, honey—there is exactly zero chance it’s yours, because the only person in this marriage who’s been coming inside me for three months is everyone but you.”

The room went silent. Michael’s cock tried to get hard in the cage and couldn’t, and the pain of it was almost a mercy, because it was the only thing down there he could still feel.

“Oh, don’t look like that,” Kylie said, patting the mattress beside her. “You’ll love it. You’re going to drive me to every appointment. You’re going to hold my hand in the delivery room. And when people say he has your eyes, you’re going to smile and say thank you—because you’re my husband, and my husband says thank you.”

She yawned, turned off the lamp, and settled her head on Tyler’s chest.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. Leave the door open a crack—Mom’s staying in the guest room, and she likes to check the lock on her way by.”

Michael stood up on shaking legs, picked up his clothes, and walked down the hall to the guest room couch where he’d been sleeping for a month. Behind him, through the door he’d left cracked open, he heard his wife giggle, heard the bed creak, heard his brother’s low voice say something that made her laugh again.

He lay down in the dark, caged and spent and owned, and the last thing he heard before sleep took him was the soft metallic tap of Diane’s key, swinging from its ribbon as she walked past on her nightly rounds.

The lock held. It always would. That was the point.

 

The End.

 

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