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It didn't last long with Dennis. They met several more times, always at his place. Then one day it was over. Dennis told her he had found himself a girlfriend and he informed Jill that he, unlike her, was not a two-timer. Her feelings were hurt, but a part of her was relieved. Dennis wasn't a terrific lover. In fact, after the initial seduction, he reminded Jill of Barry - wham bam, thank you ma'am.

After Dennis, Jill behaved for a while, focusing on her daily routine, and on keeping Barry happy. But it wasn't long before she became restless again. Something essential was missing in her life, though she didn't know what it was.

Sean mowed their lawn once a week. He was older, maybe forty, with a heavy mustache and thick dark hair. Not particularly tall, he was strong and stocky. He looked like he could break Jill in half with one hand. Not my type, she told herself. She preferred tall, lean men, like Barry.

But something about Sean got under her skin. Maybe it was the way he looked at her when he thought she didn't notice. Like she was a scoop of ice cream that he wanted to lick. She knew it should have insulted her, but instead it aroused her. She liked it. She began to dress in skimpier outfits when he was due to mow. She would forgo her bra, or wear shorts that were cut so high they left little to the imagination.

One sultry afternoon Jill offered Sean some lemonade. He was wiping the sweat off his brow as she handed him the check for his services. The dress she was wearing was a little denim sleeveless outfit that zippered all the way up the front.

As he drank, Sean's eyes raked over her in that insolent way that made her hot. Her zipper was purposefully low, and the dress was cut so that it pushed her breasts together, showing off her cleavage provocatively.

"It's awful hot out here, Sean. Want to come in and cool off a bit?" Before she knew it, they were in the shower together, even though she'd promised herself she wouldn't do anything stupid at home any more.

Sean was fun. He liked to make love to her in the shower, after soaping her up and getting her totally wild. Then he would kneel down and tickle her pussy with his tongue and his thick mustache until pleasure built up in her so that she thought she would explode. Then he'd have her kneel in front of him and suck his surprisingly large cock. He would hold her head while she did it, easing his cock in and out of her mouth till he came, spurting gushes of semen down her throat.

Barry had never once licked her pussy. He occasionally asked her to suck his cock, but he never came in her mouth, always moving to her pussy when he was aroused, to do his usual bump and grind.

Jill always made sure Sean was gone well before Barry might come home. Except for one afternoon, when Sean brought some champagne along. Over her protest that she couldn't drink during the day without falling asleep, he popped the cork and poured them each a glass, using her fine crystal that looked like it would break in his meaty grip. It was delicious, and Jill drank several glasses, finishing each one as fast as Sean could pour it for her.

She knew she was drunk, but she felt wonderful. "God, you're gorgeous," Sean said appreciatively, and he pulled her clothes off right in the kitchen before he carried her up to his favorite place, the shower. They made love for a long time, till they both had prune skin and the room was awash in billowing steam.

As they were drying off, Jill heard a sound downstairs. Barry! Shit, what time was it? The champagne and the lovemaking had stripped away Jill's usual caution. She had let Sean stay way too long. Still, it was early for Barry, no need to panic, she told herself.

Pulling on her silk robe, whispering to Sean to stay quiet and hide in the bathroom, she flew down the stairs, almost colliding with Barry, who was holding her dress and panties, and the empty champagne bottle in his hand.

"Did I miss the party?" he said, teeth clenched, with barely controlled his rage.

"It's not what you think, please Barry."

"Oh, right. You just threw off your clothes and drank a bottle of champagne by yourself, using two glasses instead of one."

"Please, I can explain," she begged, with no idea at all of how to explain. She didn't feel drunk anymore, at least not giddy and gay, as she had just a moment before. Now her head was heavy and she couldn't think clearly.

Barry shrugged her off as she tried to approach him, to hug him. He went up the stairs and threw open the bedroom door. No one. He went next to the bathroom. Pulling back the shower curtain he dropped the champagne bottle onto the bath rug and demanded, "Who the fuck are you? Get the fuck out of my house!"

Barry grabbed the pile of clothing on the bathroom floor and threw them at Sean. Sean grabbed them, pulling them on as fast as he could. "Hey man, I'm--"

"Spare me, motherfucker. I don't want to hear you. I better not see you on my property ever again. If you aren't out of my house in ten seconds I'm calling the cops and having you arrested for breaking and entering."

Sean sprinted from the bathroom, not even glancing in Jill's direction as he passed her. Jill fell onto the bed and hid her face in the pillows, her stomach clenching with terror.

Barry grabbed her roughly by the wrist, forcing her to turn over. "You promised! You fucking promised! Who else have you been fucking while I work my ass off for you? Answer me, you bitch!" As he spoke he pulled her toward him. Grabbing the sash of her robe, he pulled it off, yanking her robe open.

"What do I have to do? You want to be treated like the whore you are? Like the little brat you are? Come here!" Grabbing both her wrists, Barry pulled his wife till she was over his knee, her head hanging off the edge of the bed.

Panicked, Jill shouted, "Barry! Stop! What are you doing! I said I'm sorry. Please, let me up!"

But he didn't let her up. Instead he put a firm hand on the small of her back and said in a low, tight voice, "I should have done this a long time ago, the first time you messed around. And don't tell me this is only the second time, because I won't believe you. I know now you're nothing but a whore. A cunt! And so I'm going to treat you like one. You are no longer my wife, Jill. You are my cunt, my whore. Now take what you deserve, whore!"

He brought his hand down hard on her ass. She screamed, struggling to get away. He held her tight and smacked her again. Jill tried to process what was happening, as Barry continued to spank her with a steady volley of stinging swats. She was stunned, not just by his behavior, but by his words.

Mild-mannered Barry almost never cursed, and certainly had never called her any of those names. He'd never raised a hand to her, not ever. This new angry persona was scaring the crap out of her. She tried to get off his lap, to wriggle free, to get away but he easily overpowered her.

"I'm not going to stop until I can't do it anymore. This is what you've needed all along, isn't it? A good old-fashioned spanking to keep you in line. Well, you've earned it. Shit, you're begging for it" He continued spanking her until she was yelping and trying desperately to get away. Finally she went limp, the fight literally beaten out of her.

~*~

Something clicked back on when Jill stopped struggling. His anger, while not gone, had changed to something sexual. He stopped spanking her, instead stroking her ass, which was a deep crimson. He could already see the beginnings of bruising on her delicate skin.

For some reason, instead of filling him with remorse, this served to further inflame his passions. His cock was rock hard, so hard it hurt. He needed release. Well, this whore should satisfy that need. He rolled her off his lap, letting her fall onto the bed. She was crying softly.

Pulling off his clothes, letting his impossibly hard cock out of its cotton cage, he started to lie over her, as he always had, missionary style. But something in him made him flip her onto her hands and knees. "You act like a bitch in heat, I'll treat you like one."

Without preamble, he slammed into her pussy, which clamped down on his cock like a velvet vise. "This--is--what--you--need." He punctuated each word with a brutal thrust. Her ass was hot against him. He fucked her hard, grunting and sweating, pulling her by the hair, using her roughly.

A part of him was horrified at what he was doing, and yet he couldn't stop himself. What in God's name was he doing? He was raping his own wife! It was then he realized she was no longer crying or struggling against him.

Instead she was moaning with what sounded like pleasure. She pushed her ass back to meet him, gasping and sighing. "Yes, yes, please! Yes, do it. Use me. Oh, oh, oh!" All at once her pussy against his cock in a way it never had before.

He had thought to punish her by taking her like some common whore. Instead he found himself wrapping his arms around her, burying his face in her neck as she jerked and shuddered in the after-throes of a powerful orgasm. He could feel her heart pounding against his back as she trembled against him.

Her ardent response, so different from her usual stillness when she lay beneath him, sent him over the edge and he came hard, maybe harder than he ever had in his life. He fell forward, taking her down with him.

They lay still a while, hearts hammering. When the fog of angry passion cleared enough for him to think, Barry asked himself, What the fuck just happened? but he had no answer.