Cuckolded at the College Reunion Read online

  Cuckolded at the College Reunion

  by Victoria Kasari

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  © Copyright Victoria Kasari 2014

  The right of Victoria Kasari to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988

  This book is entirely a work of fiction. All characters, companies, organizations, products and events in this book, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any real persons, living or dead, events, companies, organizations or products is purely coincidental.

  Cover characters are models. Images licensed from (and copyright remains with) the photographers/owners as follows: People - Killion Group, Inc., background - Odelinde / Depositphotos.

  This book contains explicit material and is for adults only. All characters portrayed are intended to be over 18 years of age, even where not explicitly stated.

  Also by Victoria Kasari on Kindle

  Halloween Hooker Costume

  Watching My Wife in Jamaica

  Cuckolded - My Wife on the Submarine

  Cuckolded - My Wife at the Renaissance Faire

  Cuckolded - My Wife on the Oil Rig

  Cuckolded in College

  Cuckolded by My Boss

  Cuckolded - Watching My Wife

  Blurbs and free extract at the end of this book!

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  Chapter 1

  I’d woken early, which meant sex.

  I’d noticed recently that Kim was much hornier first thing on a morning. In the evening, we were both exhausted from our jobs; on weekends, despite not having kids yet, we never seemed to find the time. It was as if the sexual side of her had evaporated sometime in the four years since we’d been married. But for some reason, if I woke up early and propositioned her first thing, she was open to it. Eager, even.

  I didn’t wake her straight away. I couldn’t help but lie there and watch as she slept, her soft golden hair in a mass of golden ringlets, spilling across the pillow. She was more beautiful than any slumbering princess in a fairy tale. Blessed with all-American good looks from her native Texas, she had the big, green eyes and long golden hair that spoke of innocence, and the full lower lip that spoke of anything but. Beneath the sheet, her full breasts formed two perfect peaks with a valley between them. I felt my cock begin to swell as I thought of her body…that gorgeous combination of firm, toned flesh and soft, golden skin. I couldn’t wait to see it.

  I hesitated, though, before leaning over to kiss her awake. I could see her eyes moving behind her closed lids and her lips parted occasionally, as if she was saying something in her sleep. As I watched, her head began to toss lightly on the pillow and her breathing quickened.

  She was dreaming. And, from what I could tell, it was a very specific sort of dream.

  It was summer, and there was only a thin sheet on the bed. I could see the outline of her long, shapely legs and, as I watched, her thighs eased apart just a little. Were her hips grinding, or was that just my imagination. No…yes! God, she was actually flexing her pelvis, as if bringing it up to meet an imaginary lover. Only, in her dream, that man would be very real. I wondered who it was.

  Some guys would have assumed it was them—it wouldn’t even have occurred to them that their wife would dream of someone else. But I knew how my wife had sex and this—the quick little pants, the way she was swirling her groin in tiny circles—this wasn’t it. At least, not when she had sex with me.

  Other guys would have been horrified, or angry. And I was, in a way. Why can’t she be like this with me, I couldn’t help thinking. But there was another side to it, too. The idea that, inside her head, she was lying there with another man between her thighs, pumping away at her…that turned me on. I wished I could tap into her thoughts, be there as an observer as his hands crushed her breasts, as—God—as his cock split the sweet lips of her pussy apart and plunged in deep. As I watched my wife’s head toss and thrash, her closed eyes seeing someone else entirely, I got harder and harder.

  And then, quite suddenly, her breathing quickened further. Two whirlpools appeared in the surface of the white sheet, and I realized she was scrunching it in her fists. Her whole body went tense…and then relaxed.

  She’d come. She’d come for someone else. With someone else.

  Of course, it was only a dream. That’s why it was okay that I’d gotten hard—that’s what I told myself. If it had been a real person…well, that would have been completely different. I didn’t want my wife cheating on me.

  But now I was left with a raging hard-on.

  I brushed her hair back from her forehead. “Kim?” I whispered. “Kim, honey?”

  I saw her smile. Her eyes were still closed and I think she was still half in the dream. She mumbled something. A name? It sounded like a single syllable, but I couldn’t quite make it out. It was sure it wasn’t mine because Louis is two syllables.

  I ran my hand down her cheek and she sleepily turned her head to press into my palm. God, it was ten years since I’d met her, during our final year at college, but I swore she didn’t look any older than when we’d graduated. Her skin was unlined and, even without make-up, she was absolutely gorgeous. “Kim,” I said again.

  She slowly opened her eyes and focused on me. I saw her blink a few times as she traded the dream world for the real one and, for just an instant, I saw a flash of disappointment cross her face. It hit me right in the gut…but what had I expected, waking her from a dream? Dreams are always better than reality. It was followed almost instantly by a look of guilt and a soft blush in her cheeks.

  I leaned down and kissed her. Her lips are one of my favorite things about her—it’s a long list. Soft, silken pillows that, even unpainted, just beg to be kissed. She hesitated for a moment, still groggy or maybe still guilty from her dream. But then she opened up hungrily and her tongue found mine. I kissed her for only a few seconds before I couldn’t resist any more. I broke the kiss, reached across and ripped the sheet back.

  In the summer, Kim always slept topless. That morning, she had on just a pair of light blue panties. Her full breasts were moving softly as she panted, and I noticed that the nipples were still hard. The morning sun was breaking through the blinds, painting her almost-nude body with shafts of pure gold that bent and slid around to follow her curves.

  I pushed off my own boxer briefs and slid one leg between her thighs, nudging them apart so that I could climb on top of her. She stared up at me as I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties and drew them down her flawless thighs. The soft curls of blonde hair at her pussy gleamed in the sunlight—she kept just a small triangle of hair above her pussy, shaving the rest, and I could see that her lips were already wet. As I threw the panties over my shoulder I plunged one finger inside her. God, she was soaking—wetter than I’d ever known her.

  “Wait,” said Kim, grabbing my arm. “I have to go put the cap in.”

  She swung her legs out from under me and hopped off the bed, then ran for the bathroom. I rolled onto my back and lay there for a moment, stroking myself. I was used to the little interruption and, weirdly, I’d gotten to find I kind of liked it. It was a kick, knowing she was in there preparing herself, a confirmation that sex was going to happen.

  She ran back in and slid under me again. I used my knees to spread her legs apart again, wedgin
g myself between them and moved up between her thighs, positioning myself at her opening. Kim was staring up at me, her hands grabbing onto my shoulders to urge me on. I teased her lips with the head of my cock for a second and then—

  Relishing the moment, I thrust into her. She gave a soft little moan as I slid in to the hilt. She was perfect around me—soft and warm and God, so wet. And she seemed tight…I mean, she’d always felt tight enough to me. I’d found a couple of dildos in her underwear drawer that were bigger than me, so I knew she could take a bigger cock, but she’d never once complained. And after all, it’s how you use it, right?

  I began to thrust, taking my weight on my elbows so that I could reach her breasts with my hands. Soft and yet wonderfully firm and pert, her breasts were all-natural—pure Texas cheerleader goodness. I’ve always thought of them as bountiful. I’ve always wanted to do something filthy with them, like jack off over them, or slide my cock between them, but Kim’s not that sort of girl. She has a body built for sin, but when it comes to sex she’s actually very conservative.

  But that morning, at least, she was horny as hell. She started panting into my ear, her breath hot, and her nails were soon scratching at my back. I began to pick up the pace, my hips pounding between hers. God, if people could see me now, I thought, elated. Fucking the head of the cheerleading squad—me, Louis Dale! My hands squeezed just a little harder in my excitement and Kim arched her back and groaned. I quickly let go—I didn’t want to hurt her. Although, weirdly, it had sounded more like a groan of pleasure than of pain.

  I put my hands on either side of her head, instead, and began grinding my groin against her clit as I thrust. I was approaching my peak, now, and wanted to get her off before I came myself. But as I looked down to judge her state, I got a shock. Her eyes were tight closed and she was whispering something, far too quietly for me to make it out.

  She was fantasizing…probably continuing her session with her dream lover. I was spooked enough that I slowed my thrusts a little. Dreams were one thing—she couldn’t control those—but this was sex with her husband. Shouldn’t she be thinking about me?

  But as I watched her lips part and her tongue silently form his name, something happened to me. I began to see someone else fucking her. Some big, muscled guy, very different to me. Someone who’d really fuck her hard. And she was groaning and thrashing beneath him, writhing on a cock that was slippery with their juices….

  I caught my breath. Suddenly, I was hornier than I‘d ever been. I was going to come, thinking about her fucking him. My hips went faster, faster, Kim’s pussy a clutching, slippery perfection around me. I could feel the spasms as she began to come and, abruptly, she hissed one word: “Yesss…”

  And then she groaned and arched her back, thrusting her breasts up into my chest, her hips swirling beneath me. As her walls churned around my cock, I had no hope of holding back. I pushed deep into her and felt the spasms overtake me. I fired my load in long, hot shudders into her depths, filling her up. God! It had never been like that before!

  I finally rolled off her and kissed her again. She grinned but, as she lay there, her eyes remained closed for another minute or so, until she’d come down from her blissful peak. She was enjoying the afterglow with him…not with me.

  ***

  A half hour later, when we’d showered and dressed, I walked into the kitchen to find Kim frying eggs with one hand while she flipped bacon with the other. “I made your favorite,” she told me.

  I blinked. Not that it was unusual for her to do something nice for me, but this was out of the blue.

  Then our eyes connected for a second and I saw the guilt in her eyes. She knew that I knew: about the dream, the sex and the afterglow. I walked up behind her and kissed her neck. “Thank you, honey,” I told her. And then I hesitated there, my mouth hovering just above her skin. I wanted to tell her that it was okay, that I didn’t mind—as long as it stayed only a fantasy. But I could tell she was embarrassed, and how do you even start talking about that stuff? So I just kissed her a second time and sat down.

  We both worked for different software companies, right in the heart of Silicon Valley, so I got to marvel at Kim in her elegantly sexy blouse, skirt and heels as she cooked. I, on the other hand, was in my usual polo shirt and slacks. You can tell that she’s the one in sales and I’m the engineer.

  I’ve known, ever since we met at college, that I landed a woman well above my pay grade. I mean, I consider myself pretty good looking, but Kim’s on a different level. I couldn’t believe it when she agreed to go out with me. I think it had a lot to do with my timing—I met her when she was literally crying over breaking up with her asshole boyfriend of the time. I’d been her rebound, I suppose. And, when she saw how kind and considerate I was, she’d realized she didn’t need to put up with assholes. Nice guys can finish first.

  I went through the mail as I sipped my juice, opening it over the recycling box so I could dump the junk mail straight in. Junk, junk, junk…what?!

  It was an invitation to a college reunion—ten years since we’d graduated. A big, all-weekend thing, with accommodation provided.

  My immediate reaction was to dump it in the trash with the rest of the junk. College had not been the happiest time of my life. I still had bad memories of it…in fact, very occasionally I’d still awaken from nightmares about high-pressure exams, cruel hazing pranks…and Brad Dorff.

  Brad had been my own personal nemesis. Captain of the football team, he’d pretty much ruled the place—he got all the girls, had all the friends, knew where to get served booze underage…and he didn’t like me. For whatever reason, I got under his skin and, unlike the rest of the geeks, he’d terrorized me rather than simply ignoring me. Every day, I’d wondered if he and his football buddies would appear to slap the books from under my arm, push me sprawling into a ditch or invade another meeting of the astronomy society. I’d done my best to avoid that whole side of the college—the football team, the cheerleaders, even the football field and the stands themselves. Things had gotten slightly better in my final year and then, shortly before I’d graduated, I’d finally met Kim, the head cheerleader. It had always struck me as ironic that I could have maybe met her earlier if I hadn’t avoided the cool kids so fervently.

  I let the invite slide from between my fingers and fall into the recycling box. Some things should stay in the past.

  Kim gently laid my breakfast in front of me and stood there, smiling but with her hands nervously fiddling with the waistband of her skirt. She really was feeling guilty, bless her.

  I drew her into my lap and hugged her, kissing her neck again and then her lips, letting her golden hair spill down over my shoulder. “It’s okay,” I whispered in her ear, and she went tense—it was the first acknowledgment that I knew she’d been thinking about someone else. But after a moment, when I kept holding her, she relaxed.

  I moved back a little so that I could gaze at her. God, she was beautiful. She was lit up again by the sun, its rays streaming through the window to turn her blonde tresses into gold. Something suddenly popped into my head: wouldn’t it show Brad and his cronies, if I showed up with Kim on my arm and a ring on her finger? Wouldn’t that shut him up, once and for all?

  I looked out through the window at my BMW coupe and Kim’s Porsche. We were doing well for ourselves—no doubt much better than Brad had managed. What if we did go back to Texas? I could rub his nose in it. Payback.

  “What would you say,” I asked, retrieving the invite, “to a weekend in Texas?”

  Chapter 2

  Kim drew in a deep lungful of air as we stepped out of the airport terminal and into the Texas heat. She was grinning from ear to ear as she snuggled into my side. “It feels great, doesn’t it?” she asked. “We’re home!”

  The thing is, it wasn’t my home. My home was in Seattle, but I’d bowed to pressure from my parents to get out and see the rest of America and applied to colleges in places like Texas. It had been a brand new world
of heat, steaks, Texas drawls and, yes, some cowboy hats (although not quite as many as I’d first imagined). My parents got what they wanted in that I woke up to the fact that not all of America was like Seattle, and of course I met Kim, so I was eternally grateful for that. But being the pale kid from Seattle hadn’t helped me fit in. Brad, like Kim, had been a local kid. And, now that I was back, I was reminded of how out of place I felt here.

  I cheered up when I saw the greeters standing by the shuttle bus. Actual college students, picking up a few bucks by ferrying the reunion guests to and from the campus. One of them was a bespectacled, slender guy, while the other was a beaming, bouncy girl in a tiny skirt. They could have been us, a decade before. God, were we really that young?! And the girl really was a lot like Kim, all pert breasts and flashes of bare thigh--

  Kim poked me in the ribs. “You’re drooling,” she murmured, not unkindly.

  I quickly averted my eyes and pulled Kim close. “I’d rather have you,” I told her, and kissed her neck.

  When the bus was full, the girl turned to us and beamed. She explained that we’d all been assigned our old dorm rooms on campus. Most of them were empty since it was the college’s summer vacation, so the college was delighted to make a fast buck by renting them to us. Since I’d made the booking, Kim would be staying with me in mine. “Those of you who chose to rent your old fraternity or sorority houses, we’ll drop you off there.”

  I hadn’t taken that option. I’d called around my old buddies from college, but only one other guy from my old fraternity was bothering to go. I couldn’t blame them--like me, most of them had bad memories of college.

  But I had something my buddies didn’t have. I looked across at Kim. She was looking out of the window at the scenery, grinning. She’d worn a cute little denim skirt along with her tank top. All she needed was a cowboy hat and she’d be the perfect Texas woman. And she was mine…and, if Brad was at the reunion, I was going to make sure he knew it.