Anonymous

byKingBandor©

George stared at the glowing computer screen from the depths of his dimly-lit "man cave", as he called it. In reality, it was the
basement of his mother's house, where he spent most of his spare time. It was very cave-like, being dark, damp and smelling of
moldy things growing. There was little that would be considered manly about it.

It had a furnace in one corner, a laundry room in the other. There was even a small half-bath so that George didn't have to climb
the stairs to take a dump. Along one wall was a chest-style freezer, an avocado-colored refrigerator that had survived since the
1970s and a cabinet with a toaster oven, microwave, and sink.

An old, ratty sofa and chair, that looked like someone had thrown them away ten years before faced an off-brand flatscreen
television, where George would mostly watch his sports, play X-box games and whack-off to porn.

Under the wooden stairs, George had built a desk, of sorts, where he had his pride and joy, Betsy. Betsy was a computer, with
multiple monitors, an open case, with cables leading to numerous external drives and devices. In fact, it was more than one
computer but had several of them stacked together. It allowed him to simultaneously run multiple programs on different
machines, have numerous active, anonymous accounts and log-in sessions that he used regularly to mask his identity and appear
to be many different people.

Betsy made George feel important. It made him feel like a big man when nothing else in his life did. With Betsy, he could pose as
girls in Second Life and have virtual sex with men. With Betsy, he could troll Reddit and Literotica without being found out.
Betsy let George feel like a man.

The rest of the basement was littered and piled high with boxes, junk, forgotten and unwanted possessions. George felt right at
home.

George shifted in his seat at the computer, causing the chair to squeal loudly in protest. His bloated, whale-like body taxing the
frame of the chair to its limits. It would not be the first piece of furniture to collapse under the stress of supporting his corpulent,
distended body. He suddenly leaned forward and stared at the screen.

"It's about time," he stated, as he saw the new stories had posted to the Loving Wives section of the Literotica.com website. There
were three. One looked to be a Burn the Bitch story, so he skipped it and instead focused on the other two. One was a story about
a couple's surprise, erotic adventures while camping. The other was another chapter in an ongoing story of a couple who joined a
swinging club. 

He scanned the titles and descriptions, then quickly moved to the end of the story, where you could leave ratings and comments.
He clicked on the rating drop-down and picked a 1. He snickered when he saw that it was a first-time story from a new author
who had not learned to disable comments from Anonymous users.

"Stupid fucking asshole," he sneered as he started typing out his "review".

"More sick shit from a wannabee cuckold. You probably get off on another man's jizz in your wife's cheating cunt. Pathetic. 1*."
He then cleared his cookies and session and relaunched the website, going back to the story's last page. He added another 1 rating
and posted another comment:

"Wasted space. Didn't bother to read this sick crap. 1*."

He repeated this process for the next fifteen minutes, before moving on to repeat it for the swinging story. When he was finished,
he had left fifty one-star ratings on both stories and five or six horrific comments on each. He then went to the story that was a
"Burn the Bitch" episode. He quickly scanned through each page, noting that the husband got some serious revenge on his
cheating cunt of a wife.

He smiled as he wrote a very positive comment and left twenty or thirty five-star ratings to help pump it up. His comment read:

"This is what happens to bitches who cheat. No real man would put up with his wife fucking some other man. She got what she
deserved. 5*"

Satisfied and feeling smug, he went back to the listing and clicked on the new story about camping. "Let's see what kind of sick
shit this whore gets into," he mumbled as he started to read it. He skimmed down and down, ignoring all of the setup. To him,
most of the stories were the same and followed the same format: introduce the characters, hint at the outcome, then backtrack to
talk about their history, then get into the story, blah blah blah and then the sex.

There was a juicy bit of history as the author described some of the wife's sexual activities during college. She had attended a frat
party and got drunk and fucked several guys. As he read the juicy details, George slid his sweatpants down around his ankles and
started fondling his micro-penis. Fully erect, he would be lucky to hit three inches. He cupped his dick in the palm of his hand,
which covered all of it, and pumped rapidly.

His pre-cum made his hand slick, so George licked it clean, savoring the flavor of his own juices. He pumped faster and faster as
the woman in the story sucked off all the men. As she took loads in her mouth, George moaned, licking up more of his own
secretions. He edged himself on the brink of orgasm, but when the sex scene finished, he stopped touching himself.

He scanned down in the story, looking for more sex. He found it. The couple had run into a stranger in the woods, who joined
them for a dip in a mountain lake. As they all got naked, George returned to fondling himself. When the husband sat by idly,
watching as the stranger fucked his wife, George groaned. When the stranger shot his load into the hot wife, filling her pussy
with his seed, George grunted and shot his spunk into a dirty hand towel. He looked at his sperm, then lifted it to his nose,
sniffing it. He slipped out his tongue and licked it from the towel, moaning as he savored the flavor, then swallowed it.

As he finished, he heard sounds from upstairs. There was the slam of a door, then footsteps. He looked at the clock. It was past
two AM. He shook his head, realizing his bitch wife had been out all this time. He pulled up his sweatpants, stood and waddled to
the foot of the stairs, grabbed onto the wooden railing and started hauling his fat ass up them.

He had to pause halfway up to catch his breath from the exertion. Finally, he made it to the top and leaned against the wall
momentarily, out of breath. When his dizziness subsided, he padded his way into the kitchen. His wife of twelve years was sitting
at the table, having a bowl of Cocoa Pebbles and milk. It was a large bowl and she'd dumped in half the box of cereal. 

"I told you not to wait up for me," she said between shovel-fulls of the sweet cereal. A dribble of chocolatey milk ran down her
chin.
"I didn't," he responded, "I was working on stuff."

She chuckled, "Stuff? What like jerking off to gay porn?"

He bristled and ignored the jab. "Where were you? It's after two."

She laughed, "You trying to impress me with your clock skills? You know where I was. I had a dinner meeting."

George knew it wasn't a dinner meeting.

"Dinner was over by nine. Where the fuck have you been until now?" he asked, noticing that her clothes looked completely
disheveled and wrinkled. It also looked like she was missing her bra, as her large tits sagged onto the table.

"We had a few drinks and then went to Mr. Parker's suite for a meeting. That's why it is called a dinner meeting, dinner then a
meeting." She rolled her eyes at him and raised her bowl to slurp down more of the milk. She belched.

"You went to his suite? You and who else?" he asked, feeling his little dick getting hard again.

"Mr. Parker, of course, Dave, Jim, and Carl were there too," she said with a naughty-looking smile on her face as she thought
about what had happened. She had just named her boss and all three of the sales guys at the used car lot where she worked.

"What did you do?" he asked, feeling his breath starting to get ragged.

"What do you think we did? Nothing you could do. That's for sure," she scoffed. 

"Did they fuck you?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer. This was not her first dinner meeting.

"George," she said, pushing the empty bowl away, "it's none of your business."

"You're my wife. Of course it's my business," he replied, sounding weak and whimpery.

She laughed. "You know you are such a pathetic little loser. Is your cock getting hard thinking about it? I can't tell, it's too
fucking small to even notice a bulge in your pants."

He blushed.

"Show me Stubby, let me see if you're getting hard," she barked at him. He jumped at the sudden command. He looked around,
hoping his mother didn't wake up and come to investigate the noise. He looked back at his wife, then dropped his sweatpants to
below his knees. His little boner stuck out like the stubby thumb of Tyrion Lannister. That's where his wife got the nickname for
his cock.

"I can't see it," she said flatly, "do you still even have a cock?"

He moved closer and put both hands on his massive, overhanging gut and raised it.
"Oh, there it is. Is that hard?" she asked, ridiculing him, "It looks the same when it is soft. How can you tell?"

He nodded.

"You sure you want to know what happened?" she asked, staring at him like he was less than a man. "You sure you can handle it?
You aren't going to go running down to your dungeon, crying like a little sissy?"

"I want to know," he mumbled.

"They fucked me," she stated with no hint of guilt. "All four of them, multiple times, all night. I sucked their cocks and they
fucked me in my pussy and my ass. They didn't use condoms and they came in me many times. They have real cocks, big cocks,
not like that!" She pointed to his dick, which he was rubbing like a slightly larger than normal clitoris.

George whimpered.

"You like that, don't you, you pathetic piece of shit!" she laughed at him. "You like that other men fucked your wife! You're such
a wimpy little cuckold, aren't you?"

"Yes," was all he could say.

"You fucking like that they filled my pussy with cum, don't you? You know I am not on birth control and you like that they
fucking blew their loads inside my cunt, don't you? You freak."

George shuddered and a thin squirt or two of cum shot from his dick onto the floor.

"What the fuck was that?" she said laughing and pointing at his splooge. "You call that cum? That's not cum. This is cum!"

She turned to face him and spread her legs, pulling her skirt up to reveal her bare cunt. Her lips were red and inflamed. She pulled
them open and showed her husband her well-fucked hole, oozing and dripping with thick, white cum from four different men.

He stared, eyes open wide.

"See all their cum?"

"Yes!"

"That's cum from real men! Does that look anything like your pathetic sperm?"

He shook his head. "No, it's so much thicker. It looks potent."

"It is. You know their little swimmers are in there trying to find my egg, don't you?"

"Yes."
"You know I'm ovulating?"

He gasped. "I didn't know that." She saw his little cock twitch.

"You know if you don't want me to get pregnant, we should get all of this cum out of my pussy."

He nodded.

"You know what you need to do, don't you?"

He nodded.

"Lay down."

"Here?" he protested, "What if my mother gets up?"

His wife laughed, "Then she'll see what a pathetic little worm you are. She'll see you can't satisfy your wife and that she has to go
to real men to get fucked. She'll see you are only worthy of sucking my cunt clean and eating their sperm."

He groaned and held on to the table to aid in kneeling. Then he sat and rolled onto his back.

His wife stood, pulling her skirt up around her wide hips and straddled his head. He looked up into her gaping pussy as cum
dripped onto his face. He jerked slightly when the first few drops landed, then opened his mouth to catch it as it fell.

She laughed.

"You really are pathetic," she whispered as she knelt over his face, then pressed her pussy against his open mouth. "Suck it out!"

He did as she told him, his tongue darting in and out of her pussy, to help scoop the cum. He sucked and had to swallow many
times as the sperm from multiple men ran into his mouth. It was amazing how much she had been able to keep inside her. He had
to work hard to get it all. It took several minutes.

His wife sighed, then stood up. "You can't even make me cum doing that. Do you know how sad that is?" She turned and walked
out, leaving him on the floor, his face smeared with her wetness and her lover's jism.

He jerked his little dick until he came.

Twenty minutes later, he was back downstairs sitting in front of Betsy. He was typing another comment. 

"You're a pathetic worm. I bet you like to suck other men's cum out of your wife's worn out pussy. You make me want to puke.
Get a real life and grow some balls, you piece of shit."