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Subject: {ASSM} Letter to a Cuckold {Harry Kuntz} (cuckold slutwife)
Date: Mon, 25 Feb 2002 21:10:06 -0500
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"Letter to a Cuckold"
   by Harry Kuntz 


Dear Wimp,

So you are Mary's husband, the loser, the wimp, the shrimpdick
that I've heard about.  Well, I've got good news and bad news for
you, wimp.  The good news is that until last week, Mary had been
faithful to you.  Faithful for five years of marriage.  That's
almost a miracle.  That such a drop dead, knock-down gorgeous
babe like Mary could have remained faithful to a wimp like you
for five minutes is hard to believe.  It just shows how religious
she really is. And to think that a girl like that was a virgin
when she got married.  By the way, she told me how with your limp
dick, you tried and failed several times to break her cherry, and
she finally had to do it for you with her own finger.  Even with
her religious devoutness, how could she have remained faithful to
you?  Of course, she really didn't know any better.  You couldn't
turn her on, so she figured just wasn't highly sexed.  Oh,
brother!

Anyway, the good news for you is that until last week, your wife
had been faithful to you.  Until then, you were the only man who
had ever fucked her.  Which is to say, she had never been fucked
by a MAN.  The bad news, you can probably guess.  Last week, I
cuckolded you, wimp.  That's right, I gave your beautiful Mary
the kind of fucking she deserves and couldn't get in a million
years from a wimp like you.  Mary's still your husband, but she's
my woman and I'm her man.

Right now, you probably think this is some incredible hoax. But
if it's a hoax, how did I know about you being unable to deflower
your wife?  To set your mind at rest, why don't you take this
letter right now to Mary.  Ask her to look at what an incredible
prank someone is trying to play on the two of you by sending you
such a letter.  Go ahead and ask her.  Then you can read the rest
of the letter in the proper frame of mind...

Okay, Wimp, did you show her the letter?  And the minute she saw
it, those beautiful blue eyes of hers dropped to the floor, and
you saw tears rolling down those soft, soft cheeks, right?  And
finally she looked up at you through those eyes sparkling with
tears, and in a voice you could hardly hear, she said, "Yes. 
Yes.  I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry, but every word is true. 
God knows, I don't want it to be true, but I just can't help
myself."  Am I right?  Right.  And then you felt your stomach
drop to the floor, right wimp?  I wish I could have seen your
shit-eating face when Mary dropped that blow on you just now. 
But don't feel sorry for me.  I'm getting pleasure just thinking
about it, and thinking about how you are going to feel, reading
all the wonderful details I'm about to give you.

First, a bit about myself.  I think that's only fair, so that now
that you've lost your wife to another man, you can assess your
chances of winning her back.  Do you think you can compete with
me, wimp?  (By the way, when I say you've lost her, I don't mean
you won't be able to live with her.  It's just that as I said
above, she'll be my woman--one of my women, I should say--and
I'll be her man.  Her only man!  And you'll be shit!  At the end
of this letter, I'll lay out the conditions under which you'll be
allowed to go on living with Mary.  They aren't conditions that
any real man would consider accepting for a minute.  But
obviously, what a real man would do has nothing to do with what
you will do.  You're so attached to Mary, that she's certain
you'll agree to anything, no matter how humiliating.)

To start with, I'm 42 years old.  So, perhaps you think you have
the advantage of youth, since you are only 34.  But then, Mary's
only 25, so the difference doesn't seem that great from her
perspective.  And I'm so much more fit than you are. You are five
feet, five inches, five inches shorter than Mary.  And your five
feet, five inches, are composed of pure flab.  Mary showed me a
picture of you in a bathing suit.  What a shapeless mess you are!

I am SIX feet, five inches, a full foot taller than you.  Quite
literally, Mary looks up to me and down at you, wimp. At 190
pounds, I'm the same weight as you.  But what a difference!  You
could look with a magnifying glass and you wouldn't find a speck
of flab on my body.  I have dark hair with just a dash of gray,
and people tell me I have movie star looks.  But perhaps you
think I'm exaggerating..  Why don't you go ask Mary to show you
the picture of me in my dress suit.  Go ahead, before you read
any further...

Why the crestfallen look, wimp?  So I wasn't exaggerating a bit! 
In fact, I was being modest, wasn't I?  Guess what, wimp? 
Throughout this letter you are going to be thinking I must be
exaggerating, but you are going to find out that every word is
the truth.  The painful, stinging truth, wimp.

Well, looks aren't everything.  Let's see, Mary told me you
graduated from junior college, with a degree in bookkeeping. 
You've got a crummy job as an insurance actuary, earning $30,000.
 Your chances for promotion to any significantly better job any
time in your career are nil.

I went to college at Yale, got a Ph.D. in economics at the
University of Chicago, and a business degree at Harvard.  I
finished first in my class by a substantial margin at each of
those places.  I then went into venture capital and hit Silicon
Valley just at the right time.  I think I can claim to have been
a success.  Successful enough, at any rate, to retire seven years
ago at the age of 35, after I had made my third billion.

Not that I've completely detached myself from the world.  CEO's
of Fortune 500 companies and politicians in both parties are
always kissing my ass--sometimes literally--because they want my
help or advice on one thing or another.  And I'm well known in
the world of cultural affairs.  Every major arts and cultural
organization in the country has asked me to be on its board,
though I've accepted only a select few of the positions that were
offered.  So when she's around me, Mary meets the most
successful, the most glamorous, the most sophisticated people in
the world, and she participates in  conversations that you
wouldn't even be able to comprehend, wimp.  Now let's compare. 
Mary tells me your main interest in life is your bowling league. 
You think you are going to win back Mary's affections by
impressing her with your bowling scores, wimp, when with me she
meets Senators, CEOs, movie stars, and Nobel Prize winners?

Even though I keep a hand in world affairs, my main pursuit since
retiring has been man's greatest pleasure: Seduction!  I love the
feel of women and of sex.  I love the desire that women feel for
me.  I love overcoming them and holding absolute power over them,
the sense that I am irresistible to them.  And the power they
give me over their men!

Now you may find this hard to believe, wimp, but I've never
failed.  I'll target any beautiful woman I see, and I always fuck
her.  Always.  So I look for challenges.  Virgins, of course, are
lovely.  I guess I've popped a couple of hundred cherries,
probably a lot more.  But people who think seducing a virgin is
the ultimate pleasure are wrong.  Very wrong!  The ultimate
pleasure is being the first to seduce a married woman. 
Especially if she's extraordinarily beautiful.  And if, out of
religious or moral convictions, or love, she's never dreamed of
cheating on her husband.  If the idea of even thinking of having
sex with another man would strike her as incredible and
repulsive.  In short, if she's a woman just like Mary.  So
seducing Mary was a rare pleasure for me, wimp, and now I'm going
to tell you all about it.

Mary has told me that in order to maintain even a semblance of a
middle-class lifestyle, she had to go to work to supplement your
measly income, wimp.  Since she's got much more intelligence and
energy and imagination than you'll ever have, it's no surprise
that soon she was earning more than you.  And getting more
responsibility.  Including business travel.  Of course, you never
worried about those business trips Mary was always taking.  There
was no need to.  Prim Mary, so religious and so moral and not
even aware that she was married to one of the all-time wimps,
would never think of being unfaithful.  Well, you were right to
be confident, wimp, because she never, never would have thought
of it.  Not until she met me, that is!

Remember that business trip she took back in June?  She was part
of the team trying to sell consulting services to a big city
government.  It was a deal in the tens of millions, and the mayor
asked me to come along to give him some counsel.  Since I had
fucked the mayor's wife and daughter the day before, I figured I
owed him something, and I sat in on the meetings.

The meetings were dull.  I could see in five minutes what the
issues were going to be, and what the solutions were.  It took
the rest of those bozos five hours to figure it out. If Mary and
I hadn't been there, it would have taken them five weeks.

I was attracted to Mary immediately.  First of all, she was
obviously brighter than anyone else in the room.  Second, she was
a babe.  That silky brown hair, hanging straight down to her
shoulders!  Her beautiful baby blues!  The softness of her skin
and the sweetness of her mouth!  Her neck!  You know, Victorian
novelists used to talk about women having beautiful necks. 
(Actually, you probably don't know, since it's unlikely you've
ever read a novel, other than porno perhaps.)  I don't think I've
seen more than five women in my life who I'd single out for
having a beautiful neck.  But Mary is definitely one of them. 
Her neck is so long and graceful.

Now underneath her neck, she didn't show much.  She wore one of
her typical dresses, one that covered everything.  But a tent
couldn't entirely conceal Mary's charms, and the prudery of her
dress was a great sign, so far as I was concerned.  This woman
wasn't on the prowl.  It would take overwhelming desire before a
woman like her would succumb.  And that was fine with me.

When the meeting was over, I asked Mary to have dinner with me. 
She refused point blank.  I mean, wimp, she really was being
faithful to you!  But I told her I had the penthouse suite in the
____________ Hotel and that she really ought to see the view from
my rooms.  She knew that was the best hotel in the city and had
never been inside it, much less in its most expensive suite.  She
couldn't resist the bait.  She agreed to come up for a drink
only, and on the condition that I not misinterpret her going up
there.  I assured her my intentions were strictly honorable.  And
I was telling the truth.  I don't see anything dishonorable about
cuckolding a wimp like you.

Mary was suitably impressed by the suite.  The living room, she
said, was larger than your entire house.  And the view is as fine
a cityscape as you can find anywhere in the United States.  There
were a large number of phone messages that had piled up during
the day.  I didn't know what they were but I played them on the
speaker, figuring Mary might like to hear them.  They included a
message from the President of the United States--it was his
voice--two Senators, three CEOs, a Pulitzer Prize winning writer,
and two well-known movie stars, all imploring me to get back to
them ASAP.  There were also several messages from women, begging
them to come see them soon because their husbands just couldn't
satisfy them the way I do.  A couple of those were also movie
stars, probably women you've fantasized about while jerking off. 
Some of them used very explicit language and graphic
descriptions, and Mary blushed like crazy.  But I appreciated the
free advertising.

It would have been the easiest thing in the world to fuck Mary
right there in my hotel suite, wimp.  But she was special, and I
wanted to enjoy some anticipation.  I contented myself with a
long, loving French kiss.  Oh, how sweet was the taste of her
lips!

"Harry," she said, when we finally broke that kiss, "I've never
met anyone like you.  I've never felt this way."  She hesitated
but then, struggling, said, "You can do as you wish with me."

I kissed her again.

"You're one of the most beautiful women on earth, Mary," I said. 
"And very special.  I don't want to lead you into doing something
you'll regret."

She was moved by my gallantry.  What a joke!  She kissed me
again, passionately, invading my mouth with her tongue.

"But I must see you again," she said.

I told her to tell her husband--that's you, wimp--that she had
another 5-day business trip the next month.  I'd meet her at the
airport in your home city, and we'd skip over to Italy for a few
days in my villa over there.  She was thrilled.

So a week ago Monday, when Mary told you she was off to Chicago
to work on another deal, in fact she met me at the airport.  We
entered the newest and most luxuriously furnished of my
Gulfstream private jets and took off for Italy.  Aside from the
pilot and co-pilot, there were four gorgeous stewardesses just to
take care of the two of us.  Mary was impressed.  She looked even
more beautiful than I had remembered.  To think that this
priceless gem of female beauty had lived for twenty-five years
and been wasted on you, wimp!  Well, that was about to change in
a hurry.

The only thing that bothered me slightly was that seducing your
wife would be so easy.  She had already told me in my hotel suite
a month earlier that I could have her.  Don't get me wrong. 
Fucking your wife Mary was going to be a rare delight, under any
circumstances.  I just would have liked some more resistance,
that's all.

So I was delighted when, after we had taken off and were sipping
glasses filled from a newly-opened $1,500 bottle of French
champagne, she said she had something serious to tell me.

"Harry, I've hardly been able to sleep from the shame of what I
said to you last time.  Thank God you were gallant enough not to
take advantage of me when I lost my head.  For that alone, I'll
never stop admiring you, Harry.  You see, what I said about how
wonderful you are, and how wonderfully I felt, that was all true.
 But I'm a married woman, Harry.  I've never been unfaithful to
my husband.  Except for that crazy moment, I've never thought of
being unfaithful to him.  I never, never will do it.  Please
understand.  If you want to order the pilot to turn the plane
around you'd be completely within your rights."

These words were music to my ears.  Oh, fucking your wife was
going to be such a pleasure, wimp.  I knew at that moment that
I'd be hearing the words she had just spoken when she begged me
to put my dick in her pussy.  And I knew she would.  They all do!

"Darling Mary," I said.  "Wonderful Mary, your company is all I
need to delight me.  How lovely it will be to be in Italy with
you.  And as I told you, I wouldn't dream of pressing you to do
anything your convictions tell you not to do."

She gave me a warm, lingering French kiss.  Oh, what a beauty she
is!  It was a struggle to keep my dick from growing.  But I have
complete control of my equipment, and I wanted to wait for the
right moment for her to become aware of my hard-on.

We landed on the private airstrip on my estate in northern Italy,
which is on the Riviera near Genoa.  I have twenty-five luxurious
estates or residences in various major cities and resort areas,
but I picked the one in Northern Italy for seducing Mary, because
I figured she'd like one of the cozier ones.  I won't go into
details, which you wouldn't understand anyway, wimp, about the
villa.  Suffice to say that if you go to the public library and
check out almost any textbook on the history of art, you'll see
it pictured as the finest architectural example of the baroque
style in Italy.  It has forty rooms and I maintain a staff of 35,
including about a dozen strikingly beautiful young women who
provide... Well, let's say "special services."  The rest of the
staff is high priced and highly professional.  Mary had two
ladies' maids on duty through her entire visit.  Her every whim
was immediately attended to.

We landed late in the afternoon and it was a beautiful summer's
day on the Italian coast.  I dismissed the Rolls Royce and
driver, and drove Mary the five miles along the Mediterranean
coast to the villa in one of my Jaguars.  Our luggage was brought
right up to our rooms and unpacked, and we followed to freshen
up.  When I rejoined Mary in the dining room a half hour later, I
asked her if her suite was suitable.

"Oh, it's simply marvelous.  I've never even seen such luxury,
much less experienced it.  And the view of the coast is simply
breathtaking."

"And were the servants satisfactory," I asked, struggling to
avoid smiling.  She blushed.

"I- I- I'm just not used to that kind of service," she barely
managed.

"Why, what do you mean," I asked, feigning ignorance.

"Wh- When I went to the bathroom, they came with me, and they..."
 She was bright red, and couldn't go on.

"Yes, they cleaned your most intimate parts, didn't they?  They
are well trained.  But did you object to that?"

She wasn't sure what to think, but she must have assumed it was a
European custom, and didn't want to seem unsophisticated.

"Oh, no.  It's just that I'm not used to such luxury."

I gave her a long, wet kiss.  I knew that in addition to gently
washing Mary's pussy and asshole after she used the toilet, the
maids also had fluffed up and lightly powdered and perfumed her
pussy hair, just as I like it.  My staff is always impeccably
trained.  As for me, in addition to servicing from my two maids,
I had dumped a couple of huge loads of sperm deep in the cunts of
two particularly lovely members of  the special staff.  I needed
some relief after all those hours, especially being stimulated by
the sight and the kisses of your wife.

We sat down for dinner.  She said it was the most marvelous meal
she had ever had.  Which, of course, it was!  We were enjoying an
after-dinner drink, a rare brandy.  Each drop was more expensive
than the entire bottle of champagne we had had on the plane.

When we were finished, I led her into the living room.  The room
is almost three times as large as the living room in the hotel
that she had admired the previous month.  The furnishings are in
the baroque style, but perfectly maintained in every detail.  The
view of the coast faced in a different direction than the view
from her bedroom, but was equally magnificent.  We sat on the
sofa, which, she said, is larger than the bed she has shared with
you at home, wimp.

We had another hour or so of small talk. Mary is intelligent and
enjoys talking about many things.  But you wouldn't know, wimp,
because she doesn't seem to care much about bowling scores, and
what else would she talk to you about?

But after about an hour there came a moment when our eyes met,
and there was a pause.

"Mary," I said, "you are one of the most attractive women I've
ever met."  I gave her a long, affectionate kiss, enjoying the
sweet, sweet taste of her mouth.  Can a wimp like you even
appreciate such a woman?  And what a woman she is!

That kiss was the most loving we had shared yet, and must have
lasted at least two whole minutes.  Each of us was using our
hands now, stroking the other intimately and affectionately. 
Then she broke away.  There were tears in her beautiful eyes.

She said, "Harry, I'm so attracted to you.  I guess I never knew
an attraction could be this strong.  But you are so educated, so
sophisticated.  What can you possibly see in me.?"

Can you imagine Mary saying that to you, wimp?  Oh God, I almost
hurt myself, I laughed so hard as I typed that question just now.
 Anyway, I kissed Mary again and said, "What I see in you is a
beautiful, intelligent, soulful woman who has never been loved as
she deserves."

She kissed me, very passionately this time.  Then, more intensely
than you can imagine, wimp:

"Oh, Harry, how I wish I had met you five years ago.  But I'm
married."

"And does that matter so very much," I asked.

She sobbed, and responded emphatically, "Yes.  Yes."

After a pause, she continued.  "I admit my husband has never made
me feel as I feel right now.  Never, not even remotely.  He never
has and he never could.  He's not in your league as a man, Harry.
 Just an ordinary guy.  But he's been good to me over the years. 
A provider.  As much as he could be, at least.  And loving and
considerate.  And faithful.  I couldn't cheat on him.  I just
couldn't.  It would be wrong.  And it would crush him."

All the while, she was sobbing hard.  When she had calmed down, I
kissed her again.  Her desire was transparent.  In her own mind,
she was absolutely determined not to give me anything more than
kisses. But I knew that seducing her from here would be child's
play.

"Mary," I said quietly, "does your husband satisfy you?"

Do you think that was a low blow, wimp?  Does the mere thought of
that question being put to your beautiful wife turn your stomach?
 Give her credit, she tried valiantly to defend you.  She was
obviously trying to hold back tears and, after a long pause, she
said, trying pathetically to be casual, "Oh, yes, we make love
twice a month.  And we DO love each other."

I let out a loud laugh, wimp, I just couldn't help it.  "Mary," I
said, " if I were married to you and didn't fuck you more than
twice in a single DAY, you could figure there must be something
wrong with me.  Only twice a month!  Imagine letting a beautiful
sensuous woman like you go with so little attention, so little
satisfaction.  It's a crime."

With that, I gave her another very long, very affectionate kiss. 
Her cheeks were streaked with tears, but soft and beautiful as I
stroked them gently with my fingers.  We continued to kiss and I
gently stroked her glossy brown hair, then her back.  She was
partly on my lap, now, and I was able to move my hand down to her
fabulous ass cheeks.  At the same time, her hands were busy on my
body.  As had always been the case before, she touched me only
above the belt.  But she was enamored of my chiseled body.  It
must have been quite a change from your flab and pot belly, wimp.

"How do I compare with your husband?" I asked.

Did you wince when you read that, wimp?  Your wife winced when I
said it to her..  "Don't ask me that," she said.  "It isn't fair.
 You've never seen my husband, but you know perfectly well that
he can't compete with you as a physical specimen.  What
35-year-old man could?  You know damned well that there are
twenty-year-old athletes who'd sell their souls for a body as
firm and lithe as yours."

I don't mean to be immodest, wimp, but maybe it's true.  Enough
women have told me so.  And enough twenty-year-old athletes have
looked on enviously as I made love to their wives or girl
friends.

Anyway, it was at this point that I took her hand, which was
lovingly stroking my chest, and gently moved it to my crotch.

"Feel how much I want you, Mary," I said.

Her jaw dropped.  Literally, wimp, her jaw just dropped!  I guess
she'd never known what a real man would feel like.  How could
she, being faithfully married to you, wimp?

"You're so huge," she whispered.  "And so hard.  My husband
doesn't feel anything like this."

"Mary, you are gorgeous.  Wonderful.  As fine as any woman on
earth.  For once in your life, you deserve to know what it's like
to be with a real man."

While I said this my other hand, the one that wasn't holding hers
against my hard penis, was stroking her crotch.  Her panties were
wet.  Sopping wet.  She was mine!

A few minutes later, I had her dress and bra off.  I stood her up
and slid her panties down.  Well, you know what I saw at that
moment, wimp.  But pardon me if I rhapsodize.  What an ass! 
Globes so perfectly round and soft and firm, and divided by a
perfect, deep cleft.  And peeking up from her crotch at the base
of that gorgeous anal valley was a thick patch of pubic curls.  I
turned her around so that I could enjoy the frontal view.  Her
pubes were dark, darker than the already dark brown hair that
framed her beautiful face.  But not quite black.  Her pubes were
a rich mahogany.  And such a thick, lush, perfectly formed
triangle.  I could smell the powder and gentle perfume the maids
had used to anoint her pussy, mingling with the much stronger
natural fragrance of her woman-crotch.

She must have been nervous or embarrassed, standing there naked
as I admired her genitals.  "I've so much hair down there," she
said.  "Do you think I should shave it or trim it like some women
do?"

"Mary," I said, "this pussy is perfect.  Don't you ever dare cut
a single hair of it."  And I planted a loving, wet kiss right on
the entrance to her pussy.  Just think, wimp.  Another man
tasting your wife's cunt!

I spent the next half hour exploring her beautiful pussy with my
mouth, with occasional excursions up that mysterious cleft to her
cute little anus.  Women tell me my oral technique is
exceptional, wimp.  Mary must have thought so.  She said you had
lapped her cunt a few times, but she never responded and the two
of you had given it up.  She had thought it was her fault.  But
she found out otherwise.  She came at least five times during my
oral ministrations.  And those were hard orgasms, wimp.  The
hardest she had ever experienced, she said.  But I told her
things would get a lot better than that.  She stood up and gave
me another deep kiss, tasting her own sweet woman-juices from my
mouth, and tasting her own sweet woman-juices from my mouth, and
pressing her naked body close to my still fully clothed self.

When she finally let go, I took my shirt and undershirt off, and
then my shoes and socks.  She hugged me again, pressing her tits
against my now-naked chest.  I realize her breasts are only about
average in size, but wimp, can you appreciate their shape?  So
perfectly round, such sweet nipples, so pert.  They are gems.  I
wanted her to keep pressing them into my chest forever, but she
pulled away.  She had spent plenty of time by now stroking my
chest, but this was the first time without clothing.

"Oh, Harry," she said, "you're such a beautiful man.  This strong
chest feels so good, compared to my husband's flab.  I never knew
what I was missing."

"Why don't you see what else you've been missing?" I asked.

She laughed a wicked laugh.  She knew exactly what I meant. Are
you getting nervous, wimp?  I don't suppose this has been
pleasant reading so far, but even your dim intellect can probably
guess that it's about to get a lot worse.

"Let me take the rest off," she said.  So she unbuckled my pants
and pulled them down.  She let out a gasp, when my underwear came
into view.  I have to have all my underwear made to order with
oversized crotches.  But Mary had me so hard by now that even the
triple-sized pouch could not begin to accommodate me.  The
projection of the shorts out from my body took her breath away.

She collected herself and got my pants off.  She spent a few
seconds admiring my legs, but couldn't hold her attention away
from my crotch.  It took some effort for her to work the elastic
over my hard-on, but she finally managed.  She was rewarded with
her first sight of my manhood.  Actually, with her first sight of
ANY manhood, considering the only other naked male she'd ever
seen was you, wimp.

Usually, I like to let a woman first see my dick when it is soft
and at its smallest.  Even then, it's likely to be bigger than
any hard-on they've ever seen, and they can get even more amazed
when they see it grow.  It's a pleasant reaction to watch.  But I
was so aroused by your wife's beauty and from watching her
resolve to remain faithful dissolve from the force of my sexual
power, that I was at full size.

Do you want the stats, wimp?  At full size, my penis is just over
fourteen inches long.  As for thickness, let's just say I pass
the beer can test (as in, thicker than a beer can) with LOTS of
room to spare.  And I get hard, wimp.  Iron hard.  Remember, Mary
was used to your limp dick that couldn't even pop a cherry. 
There wasn't the tiniest bit of give or flexibility in the big
shaft she was staring at hungrily from a distance of only a few
inches.  She could feel the radiant heat from my manhood.  She
had a dazed look, as if she was in some sort of mystical trance.

Before she knew it, her hands were all over my shaft.  Both her
hands together hardly covered half the length.  And when she
tried to close her hands around the base, there were two inches
between her thumb and fingertips.  How do you think we compete in
the manhood department, wimp?

"You're so much bigger than my husband," Mary said.  "I had no
idea a man could be this big."

I asked her how big her husband was.  Cheer up, wimp, Mary
actually tried to protect you.  She said you were about seven
inches long.  A couple of days and about fifteen fucks later, she
admitted that you were less than five inches.  And then, on the
flight home, she told the truth.  Under four inches, and no
thicker than Mary's index finger.  Wimp, you can't believe how
much we laughed together over that!

After Mary spent several minutes just trying to get used to the
size and hardness and heat of my shaft, she noticed my testicles.
 "Oh, sweet Jesus," she said, "they're enormous, too.  My
husband's balls are smaller than marbles."

Would you say balls as large as the most jumbo eggs you can get
in the grocery store are enormous, wimp?  Well, mine are a bit
larger than that.  But maybe you still think I'm exaggerating. 
Why don't you go ask Mary to show you the photographs of me
standing in the nude?  Go ahead, right now!...

Even more downcast, wimp?  Are you beginning to believe that I
don't exaggerate?  Why should I?  I don't need to.  But maybe you
are unhappy for another reason, wimp.  When you saw the picture
of my dick, thicker than your forearm, standing proudly at
attention above my washboard stomach and extending well up to my
muscular chest, did you think about how often you've dreamed in
your most secret dreams of having a big cock and a powerful body?
 Did it trigger your deepest fantasies?  And did your pitiful
shrimp dick get hard at the thought?  Harder than it ever gets? 
Am I right that at this moment, inspired by the sight of a real
man, you actually could pop a girl's cherry?  If any girl were
stupid enough to let you, that is!

Anyway, Mary must have spent another twenty minutes or so fussing
over my man's equipment with her hands and her mouth.  It was
hard to resist coming in that sweet mouth of hers, but I wanted
something else even more at that moment.  I wanted to fuck that
beautiful furry pussy of hers.  And she was READY, wimp.  She
said she had never been nearly that wet in her life.  I wasn't
surprised.  Was a five foot, five inch flabby shitpile like
yourself going to make her wet?

I positioned my cock at the beautiful furry portal and began to
enter.  Oh, it was sublime.  Like I said, wimp, there's nothing
like taking a man's wife for the first time.  Especially one so
beautiful and so virtuous.  That was the moment, wimp, the moment
you became a cuckold!  Oh, how I savored it.  I'll bet right now,
you too are savoring the thought of it.  Eh, cuckold?  Why don't
you stop here for several minutes and think about that moment,
when my penis, so much bigger and harder than yours, penetrated
Mary's pussy, the pussy that no other man had ever enjoyed. 
Think about it, and when you've finished this letter, come back
to it again and again.  The minute you became a cuckold!

Wonderful though that moment was, I pushed right on.  From the
first, my cock was spreading the lips and walls of Mary's pussy
as they had never been spread before.  For a few seconds, she was
uncomfortable.  "You're too thick," she whispered.  "I can't take
you."

But she was so wet, that I slipped in fairly easily, despite the
thickness.  And by spreading her cunt walls I was also exposing
nerve endings that had never been stimulated before.  Her
discomfort didn't last more than a couple of seconds.

"Oh God," she moaned.  I realize it's a cliche, but I'm telling
you that your wife MOANED, wimp.  "Get it in, get it in.  Fuck
me, fuck me."  I remembered her little speech on the plane, about
how she'd never, never be unfaithful to you, wimp.

At this point, I had only a couple of inches more than the head
inside her cunt, but I was already deeper inside Mary than you
had ever been or ever will be.  From here on all the way up her
channel it would be virgin territory.  And I was spreading her
open as you could never dream of doing.  She came, HARD, and I
wasn't even a third of the way inside her.

She had never had an orgasm like that, and was out of breath. 
But I didn't give her any rest.  I just kept on pushing forward,
slowly and inexorably into that divine love channel of hers.  But
what would you know about it, having barely been able to touch
the walls of the entrance with your shrimpdick?  So I'll tell
you, wimp.  Deep inside, Mary's cunt is wet.  And it's soft.  And
it has a million little places that rub a big cock like mine in
wonderful little ways.  And it's tight.  No, it wouldn't be tight
for you, wimp, no cunt could be that tight.  But as I pushed in,
her beautiful cunt grabbed my penis as if was holding on for dear
life.

Inch by inch, I entered your wife.  Six inches.  Eight inches. 
Ten.  "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," she started yelling.  She was
going crazy, and then she came again.  I felt her cunt walls
clutching my hard dick, and her newly secreted cum juices sloshed
around, providing more lubrication.

On I pushed.  Twelve inches, thirteen.  There was about an inch
to go, when I felt my hard tip pressing against her cervix.  I
had hit bottom, wimp.  Mary's told me how you can't impregnate
her because your sperm count is too low, so that the two of you
long ago gave up on the possibility of a child. You won't have to
worry about that any more, wimp.  Here I was, pressed right up
against her very womb.  And I pushed again, stretching her cervix
to his limit.  I was in all the way, my own thick, black pubic
hair mashed against her beautiful, dark brown curls.  Her cunt
was stretched and stuffed to its absolute limit in every
dimension.

Then I started pumping her.  Slowly at first, then very gradually
with faster in-and-out strokes.  She had another hard orgasm,
much stronger than the ones before.  And another.  They started
coming closer together.  I lost count around nine or ten, but
soon after that they became impossible to count anyway.  Her
orgasms were overlapping and had become continuous.  To tell you
the truth, wimp, I frequently get women to that state of
continuous orgasm and it's something to behold.  But I've seen
very few women get as passionate as Mary did.  There was a huge
voltage of electricity running continuously through her body,
emanating out from her fiery cunt.  When I started stroking her
she was speaking.  Nothing much, just "fuck me, fuck me," and
"yes, yes, yes," and that kind of thing.  But the words gradually
got incoherent and then, when her orgasms became continuous, the
sounds converted into a steady, low moan.

I was pumping away, loving it as much as I'd ever loved fucking a
woman.  And I really do love fucking women.  But your wife was
too much, wimp.  Usually, my first time fucking a woman, I go
forty minutes or an hour.  (Mary tells me that on those rare
occasions when you can get it up enough to penetrate her at all,
you never last more than half a minute, wimp.) It was only about
twenty-five minutes after starting to fuck Mary that I knew I
wasn't going to be able to hold out any longer.

All of a sudden I came.  My orgasms are always REAL strong, wimp,
but this was something else.  Every nerve in my body was running
with electricity, and it felt like my big cock was a cannon. 
BANG!  BANG!  BANG!  BANG!  BANG!  BANG!  BANG!  I just kept on
coming until it seemed like it would go on forever.  And with
each explosion, massive bullets of white hot liquid manhood
propelled with tremendous velocity and power from close range
right up against Mary's stretched cervix.  My extra-potent
man-fluids were headed special delivery for her fertile womb. 
That's right, wimp.  Check your calendar and you will see that
the days Mary spent with me in Italy were the peak of her
fertility cycle.  I hope you have fun raising my child, wimp. 
And you can be sure, there will be plenty more children that I'll
be planting in Mary's belly for you to bring up after this one.

Mary had never felt anything like what she felt when I fired my
load deep inside her pussy.  Remember, she was already in a state
of continuous, highly intense orgasm and had been in that state
for over ten minutes.  But my discharge brought her to a
completely new level. Of all the thousands of women I've fucked,
I've never seen one have such a violent orgasm as your wife
climbed to at that moment.  The force of my iron hard shaft
erupting in orgasm had begun jerking her body around the bed, but
now her own orgasm wrenched her body even more violently.  The
repeated clamping of her vagina on my cock was a sensation I'll
never forget.

Her last throes must have lasted at least two minutes.  Then she
found rest.  One of the things I love to see when I fuck a woman
well is the look of complete, unprecedented contentment that
comes over her face after the final, violent orgasm.  It's as if
they've gone to an undiscovered country, a place of complete
tranquility and gentle pleasure.  And the man who brings her to
that place is the man to whom she will belong forever.  If I
hadn't already known, one glance at Mary at that moment would
have told me that I had succeeded royally.  The look of complete
calm, complete happiness, complete adoration on that beautiful
face!  It's not something you could ever dream of producing wimp.
 But you'll get to see it, directed at me after you've been
watching me fuck her.  How do you think you'll feel when you see
your wife gazing with pure adoration at another man?

She was in that state for nearly an hour, just gazing at me with
complete love and worship.  Finally, she stirred,  turning over
and lying partly on my body.  She gave me a more loving,
affectionate kiss than you could possibly imagine.  While she was
kissing me, a river of thick cum-cream flowed from her pussy onto
my thigh.  I rang for the maids, one of whom licked my thigh
clean while the other tended to Mary,  licking and swallowing the
copious amount of cream that had remained inside her.

"What would your husband say now?" I asked her, while the maids
were doing their quiet cleaning of our bodies.

"I don't care, Harry," she said.  She gave me a warm smile, a
smile of radiant contentment.  "I don't care at all.  I can only
feel pity for him now.  He does the best he can, but he's not a
man.  I know that now."

She was quiet for a while and then continued, "Harry, I know it's
foolish to say this.  But I'm in love with you.  And I'm in love
with your wonderful manhood."

She held it.  She was looking at it, not at me.  "Harry, for the
first time in my life, I know what it is to be a woman and what
it is to be with a man."

She went on for quite some time, talking quietly and deliberately
about how she loved me, about how she adored my penis, about how
she was my woman forever and no matter what, about how there
wasn't anything she wouldn't do for me.

You'll never know, wimp, how sweet it is to be able to fuck a
woman into a state where she will talk to you like that.  I've
heard it a thousand times.  Believe me, wimp, I don't exaggerate
and I'm understating it here.  I've heard words like those a
thousand times.  And I'll never get tired of it.

Mary was still talking.  "Harry, I've never felt anything
comparable to the way you've made me feel.  I swear, I'll do
anything you want me to do.  Tell me to become a whore, and I'll
do it.  Tell me to be your lowest servant, to serve you and your
other women.  Tell me to be your toilet slave, like these women
here.  Tell me to cut my husband's balls off.  Whatever you tell
me to do, I will do.  But please, please let me be your woman."

Yes, you read right, wimp.  Mary, your faithful wife Mary,
actually said she'd cut your balls off if I asked her to, as long
as I promise to go on fucking her.  Fortunately for you, I'm not
into violence.  But causing maximum humiliation for the husbands
of my women, the women who were completely faithful to those
husbands before I seduced them.  That's something I can take
pleasure in, and I'll have no compunctions about enlisting Mary's
assistance.

Do you doubt that Mary said she'd cut your balls off, if I asked
her to?  Do you doubt that she meant it and would do it in five
seconds if I gave the word?  Do you want to ask her?  No?  I see,
you now recognize that every word in this letter is the truth. 
Good.  For the first time in your life, you are starting to learn
something.

We fucked pretty continuously for the next three days, with only
a little time off for an occasional meal and a drive around parts
of the estate she hadn't seen.  I offered to show her more of
Italy, but she said she preferred to fuck me.  I didn't keep
score, but I probably dumped about twenty more loads deep into
Mary's pussy, maybe ten in her throat, and three or four in her
rectum.  Or to be more precise, past her rectum and into her
colon.  But that's not the kind of distinction you'll ever need
to worry about, wimp.

We also had some parties.  A few of the neighbors came over, but
mostly we partied with the hired help.  Both Mary and I took
plenty of enjoyment from the "special services" my young female
staff were happy to provide. Mary really took a shine to one of
those girls, Carlotta.  She's 18 years old, blonde, stacked, and
cute as a button.  Mary's first-ever taste of cunt came between
Carlotta's legs, though I guess she got to taste each of the
dozen not to mention several of the neighbor women.  I wonder if
she's continued to eat pussy since she's been home.  But she
especially liked swallowing from a pussy that had just been
filled with a half-cup or so of my thick man-cream.  I hope you
share that taste with your wife, wimp, because the only contact
with any pussy, your wife's or anyone else's, that you are going
to get in the future, is when you are sucking a man's cum from
it.

But do you think it's impossible that I could have come so many
times, not only in Mary's various receptacles, but in the pretty
hired help and the neighbors as well?  If you won't take Mary's
word for that, I can refer you to a couple of articles in
respected medical journals, in which my sexual equipment has been
written up.  The doctors think the size and unusual weight and
density of my testicles is the big factor.  Those jewels produce
hundreds of times the amount of sperm and male hormones as the
average man.  Which means thousands of times as much as a
sub-sub-average wimp like you.

On the last day, I flew back with Mary on the Gulfstream.  To say
that it was a tearful parting when we landed would be an
understatement.  She begged me to let her move in with me, even
if only as the lowliest of servants.  Every day since she's been
back, I've received at least one letter from her, sometimes two
or three, telling me how much she loves me, begging me to take
her back.

But I've made it clear to her that I won't fuck her again behind
your back, wimp.  You can't say I'm not fair!  The conditions are
simple.  If you, her wimp of a husband, get down on your knees
and beg me to fuck Mary in the way she deserves, in the way that
you could never hope to do, then I'll consider it.  But you will
really have to beg, and the begging will have to be sincere.  How
will I know you are sincere?  I'll let you prove it in lots of
ways.  For example, by cleaning my ass with your tongue after I
shit.  By worshiping my testicles, sucking my rod and swallowing
the loads of cum-cream that you can only envy.  Those are just a
few examples.

You'll always be there when I fuck Mary.  Each time, you'll have
to beg me to fuck your wife, to do what you can't do.  You claim
to love Mary, and she thinks you do.  If you do, you will be
grateful to me for letting her experience being fucked by a man,
a real man.  Of course, if YOU were a real man, you wouldn't
stand for any of this.  You'd win Mary's affections back.  But
you are a wimp, a shrimpdick, a natural born cuckold.  So we
don't have to worry about those possibilities.

Of course, no matter how much you and Mary beg me, I won't be
spending too much time with you folks. Don't get your hopes up,
wimp!  It will be my order to her not to ever let you touch her,
for any reason, except when you are swallowing my cum-cream from
her pussy.  And I don't have the slightest worry that Mary will
cheat on me.  She is a very faithful woman, you know.

But even for someone as delectable as your sex-hungry wife, I
won't have time for more than, say, a weekend or so every month
or two.  Remember, the real pleasure in life is seduction.  There
are so many men just waiting to be cuckolded.  Ah, the pleasures
of the chase.

I'm sure you and Mary will always be waiting impatiently for your
times with me.  But don't worry.  You'll have plenty to do
between times.  I mean the work you will be doing providing a
loving home to all my children.  Just think how every time you
look at them, for the rest of your life, you will know they are
the children another man planted in your wife's belly.  A real
man, not a cuckold.  Oh, you wimp!

Studfully yours,

Harry Kuntz


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