The Changing of Camilla - Tia Lascivo - ebook

Camilla is uncertain about her husband's voyeuristic inclinations. She tests out the cuckolding and decides she likes it. Then her husband arranges a gang-bang. ~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~ In the car, Camilla says, "That was a lovely evening, Alan." Alan takes his eyes off the road. He glances at his wife, his attention quickly moving over her body. "A surprise," he says, focus going back to his driving. "Thirty years, Camilla," he adds. "Pearl anniversary," Camilla puts in. Alan throws another quick look at his wife. "You happy?" "I am," Camilla replies. Her nod is emphatic. No hesitation or pause. "Been a mental few months." Camilla squirms at the reminder. She says, "If you'd told me last anniversary, Alan..." He laughs. "I love you for doing it, Cam." "I love you for suggesting it." As Alan negotiates the Parkway his wife reaches over and puts a hand on his thigh. "This dress," she purrs, squeezing her husband's leg, "makes me feel sexy. The underwear is fantastic, darling. So pretty." Camilla sighs and runs her palm up to the definite bulge. "We could park up," she says with a whisper. "I'm a bit tipsy. It'd be exciting to do it out here. You know... dangerous. Risky. We could get caught."

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The Changing of Camilla


Tia Lascivo

* * * * *

Copyright © 2018 by Tia Lascivo

All Characters are 18 and Over

One – A Confession

Thrilled, guilty, anxious, and aroused, that’s how it was for Camilla. She could feel his cum sliding into her underwear, thrilled by the memory of how he’d held her and grunted out he was coming, his girth pulsing inside her, his seed flooding her body.

She paused at the front door, key in hand, wondering if she could face Alan and tell the truth.

He’d said it was all right. He’d said she could do it.

“Oh fuck,” Camilla said with a groan.

Sensations swirled, deeper than the pit of her stomach. Then she let out a sigh, a heavy sound full of trepidation. The key snicked in the lock, the weight of her gym bag weighing on her shoulder while the butterflies fluttered inside her.

“That you, Cam?”

“Who else?” Camilla replied.

Her stomach flipped over when Alan appeared at the living room door. She gulped when she saw his expression.

Camilla barely recognised him as her husband through the hungry, feral look on his face, the words coming out of him clotted and thick with whatever it was he felt in the moment.

“Did you do it?” he growled.

To Camilla, it felt like she’d swallowed a beach-ball after he said it. She knew she had to decide, recognised this was the pivotal moment. Whatever came out of her mouth could and very probably would have life-changing consequences.

It took two attempts before she told him. Camilla tried once, stumbled over the word, cleared her throat, wondered if her trembling legs would support her through the next few seconds, and then managed a nod.

“Yes,” she said, eyes on his face.

Time slowed down as reality slewed and Camilla stared at her husband.

It seemed to go on forever until she could no longer bear it.

“Say something, Alan. Please,” warbled Camilla.

The dark tone of his voice sent a thrill of excitement through her when he said, “Tell me, Cam. Tell me what you did.”

Goo slid into her knickers when Camilla’s pussy clenched. Thrilled at the reminder of her sin, her lover’s spunk cooling as it soaked into the cotton, Camilla said, “What do you want to know?”

She saw his throat work before he said, “Everything. Where did you do it?”

Ashamed, Camilla’s eyes dropped to the floor. “In his car.”

“Not at the gym?”

Camilla shook her head. “No, it was too busy. Too risky.”

“But you fucked him in his car?”

Blushing, Camilla nodded. She glanced at her husband and saw him staring at her. “Yes,” she breathed.

“Where was it parked?”

“In a lay-by off the A1. Near the A47.”

“Did you come?”

Excitement ballooned as Camilla remembered her climax, his girth stretching her out. “Yes,” she gasped.

“Did you use a condom?”

Anxious at her husband’s reaction, Camilla went with the truth, heat in her cheeks. “No,” she replied in what was barely a whisper.

When her husband didn’t respond, Camilla braved a look at his face. Saw something desolate in his expression.

“Uh-are you angry?” she asked, very concerned.

He slowly shook his head, his stare holding her gaze. “No,” he said. “Where did he do it? Where did he come?”

“Oh God,” Camilla said on a moan. “Inside me,” she added in a tiny voice.

“You slut,” Alan responded. “Fuck, Cam, you beautiful slut.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Oh, yeah, I mind, all right, Camilla. You bet your fucking life I mind. I mean, my wife fucks her trainer … bareback, too. Then she tells me she let him dump cum in her cunt?”

Alan paused and heaved a sigh, running a hand over his short, dark hair.

“It pisses me off, Cam. It really pisses me off to hear my wife’s been fucking another bloke. Now you’ve come home with his cum inside you. You dare to fucking come into this fucking house after slutting it up in a car in a lay-by? You haven’t had a shower, have you, bitch? Not if you fucked him in his car. It’s in your twat, isn’t it? You’re full of his spunk.”

“I’m sorry,” Camilla said through a whimper. Scared, she added, “But you said--”

His laugh cut her off. Then he said, “Don’t be sorry, Camilla. It’s so fucking sexy to think about you and him fucking. I’m fucking hard now, babe. I’m not really angry. But I’ll tell you what, I’m jealous as fuck.”

Confused, Camilla stammered, “I … I don’t understand.”

Her husband grimaced as he gave a half-shrug. “Neither do I, Cam. Not really. But it turns me on to think my gorgeous, hot, sexy wife got herself fucked. I can’t tell you why it turns me on, but you standing there with another man’s spunk in you makes me want to fuck the tight little arse off you.”

They gazed at each other for a little while, neither speaking.

Then Alan said, “Put that bag down. Come in here.”

Camilla realised she was still standing just inside the front door, gym bag in hand. Surprised, she let the bag drop, then slowly and with some trepidation, walked along the hall towards the living room.

When she reached the door, she saw Alan sat on the sofa.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He nodded and smirked. Said, “Yeah.”

Not fully convinced, Camilla asked, “Really? You’re not angry with me?”

“No, I’m not angry, Cam.”

Alan beckoned her in with a wave of an arm.

“Come in, babe. Come here. Talk to me.”

Cautious, she entered, then went close to the sofa when her husband insisted.

“Show me,” said Alan, face lupine and eager.

“What?” Camilla asked.

“Your cunt. Let me look at you, Cam. I wanna see your pussy. Show me what it looks like after you’ve fucked another bloke.”