Old Ladies, Thongs, & Blizzards

"Squeeze my big tits!" Greta screamed out. "Squeeze my big boobs because they're so much bigger and better than your wife's! Squeeze them while you fuck me! Yes! YES! Fuck me! FUCK ME! Squeeze my big tits and fuck me!"

God damn, what a deliciously evil bitch, Greta was. Fuck...

April closed her eyes tight and covered her ears for a long time, trying to drown out the noise. She didn't know how long she stayed like this, but when she dared to open her eyes and uncover her ears, night had set in, and some semblance of silence had fallen. All that was left was her and her own thoughts. Her and thoughts of what had happened to her life to lead her to this.

And what had happened to her husband.

How could Blake do this? He promised not to enjoy this, but he clearly was. If there was any doubt before, there was none now. Blake was completely under Greta's spell. Completely willing to obey any command of hers, no matter how twisted. No matter how much it humiliated his wife. He had never looked so unrecognizable. Seeing him like this, seeing her own husband under another woman's spell... April didn't know how she could ever forget this. She just kept thinking about it, over and over again, trying to understand. Trying to make sense of this. But none was coming. If what she was seeing wasn't enough to drive her crazy, the thoughts running through her head would.

By the last night, April was practically catatonic. So when she woke up on the couch in the middle of the night, only to open her eyes to see Greta kneeling above her, on all fours, her pussy just above the young woman's face. Her husband was behind the older woman, pumping his swollen cock into her cunt, juices leaking out, dripping onto the young woman's face. As they fucked, the old slut's huge black boobs rested on her stomach, their massive weight keeping her in place. But April was withdrawn at this point, and she just lied there, broken, as they fucked above her. She watched as her own husband's swollen prick pumped boiling hot semen into the old slut, and she said and did nothing.

April was in Hell.

**************

A shining beam of sunlight shown through the windows of the country home. A pillow wrapped around her head to drown out the noise, the light caused the young wife to awaken. Seeing sunlight and crystal clear skies, she jumped up excitedly and looked out the window.

The blizzard had ended. The roads were plowed. The way out was clear.

"BLAKE!" April called out. "The storm's over!"

Excitement coursing through her for the first time in days, she began moving, immediately calling a tow truck to get their car freed from the embankment. She hung up the phone just in time to see her husband emerge.

For days, he'd been an animal, lost under the sway of that twisted old slut. But now, stumbling out of the bedroom, only wearing boxers, he looked like the husband she knew and loved. Walking gingerly, clearly worn out, he stumbled towards the front of the house, looking out the window.

"Honey?" April called out lightly, stepping up to him. He jumped slightly at this, and looked at her for the first time in days. "We need to go." April said firmly. His expression was unreadable for a few moments, but she could see the warmth in his eyes that hadn't been there the previous days. Not being able to find his words, he simply nodded.

The couple moved in a blur, packing up their things, getting dressed, eager to just get the hell out of here. It was as they were putting on their jackets that Greta finally emerged, clad in a slinky golden robe, not tied up, exposing her naked cunt and the mile of cleavage between her big black tits. The married couple froze as they saw her. April shook in fear, and Blake was unmoving. April didn't know how he'd react, and for a moment, she wondered if he was still somehow under her control, and if she crooked her finger, he would go crawling back.

"Well, folks, I enjoyed hosting you!" Greta called out warmly, for the first time talking like the friendly old woman she had initially presented herself as. "It was great to have some guests out here. So... keep in touch!" she said warmly, but her smile was insidious. Blake was frozen in place. April moved to grab his arm, and finally, he went along, turning away from Greta. April pulled open the door, letting the cold air blast in, and the couple stepped out, leaving that old bitch behind for good.

*************

They stomped through the snow for a few minutes, not talking, arriving just in time to see the tow truck arrive and haul their car from the embankment. In need of some minor repairs, the truck drove them into town.

Literally at the end of the street was a decent hotel, a fact that filled April with fury, knowing how close they were to a better sanctuary than the one they had found, but knowing that they had no way to know Greta was lying at the time.

As they sat in the shop and waited for the car to be repaired, Blake was silent. He seemed frozen, not saying anything, trying to deal with the ordeal they had been through. But April took his hand in hers, squeezing it lovingly, and he squeezed it back.

It wasn't till they got into the car in the parking lot that he reacted. For the first time, he was alone with his wife, and at this, the damn burst.

"I'm sorry!" he said, fighting back tears. "I... I... I... I lost myself! I'm so sorry! About everything! I didn't mean too! I got caught up with her! I... I... I..." he stammered.

"It's okay!" April said. "I know. I know. We didn't want any of that. I didn't, and you didn't. So... we don't have to talk about it. Or think about it. Let's just move on, and never speak about it again." She said, hugging him. They looked into each other's eyes. She saw regret and shame in his. He saw love and understanding in hers.

They kissed, a gesture of pure love, letting each other know that their love had survived the trauma they had just endured. At this, April shifted into drive and zoomed out of town, never to come back again.

*************

(One Year Later)

They never did talk about it, but that didn't mean they never thought about it.

April could never forget about what happened those three days. She couldn't think about the animal her husband had become. How insane and sex-crazed he had gotten. How deeply he had fallen under Greta's power. How much he enjoyed that crazy sex. And the acts of humiliation he had put his own wife through. He had fallen deeply into a pit of pure sin, and even though he seemed to have escaped it, April couldn't help but wonder if it had left a mark on him. She couldn't help but wonder how deeply impacted he was by his time with Greta. April wanted to move on from all that, and to his credit, so did he, but she had trouble moving past those events. She couldn't help but remember the things Blake and Greta had done together. But she also understood that the villain of this tale wasn't him. It was that twisted, evil bitch. Even thinking of her again made her shake with rage.

April still didn't know how deep the scars of those three days cut. There were so many occasions where small, simple things triggered thoughts and feelings in her of those insane few days, and she'd feel all those same feelings rush over her again. For example, the mere mention of snow would trigger thoughts of the white-out blizzard that led them to Greta's doorstep. Or when she'd hear someone mention Chicago, it reminded her that that was their destination on the fateful trip.

It all kept coming back to Greta. When April would be watching a movie, and she would see a pair of boobs on screen, she would remember Greta's huge black tits swaying above her as Blake fucked the older woman. When she was buying clothes, and she'd see a tiny little thong for sale, she'd remember the thong that Greta was sporting when she dropped her façade and revealed herself for the whore she was. Sometimes, when she'd see her husband lying in bed, her mind would flash to an image of him in bed with Greta below him, her firm black legs wrapped around his waist possessively as he pounded his dick down into her. Even when she simply saw a black woman of similar age to Greta, April would see Greta in her place, and all those feelings would return to her again.

In fact, there was a woman who had just moved into their building who reminded April of Greta a lot. An older black woman, of similar stature, with similar assets. But this woman was a few years younger than Greta, and from talking with her, so much nicer. She was a recent divorcee who was starting a new journey in her life. And she indeed seemed nothing but kind and sweet, but Greta had seemed nice at first too. April didn't want to judge her unfairly, but those scars ran deep. In the end, as nice as she was, April couldn't handle being around her, and Blake knew exactly why.

April was taking a while to deal with what had happened, but she put on a brave face, trying to push through and live their life as normal as possible, and not let that evil old slut win. But the damage that whore had done to not just her, but to Blake, and their marriage, was truly severe, and it was hard to just move past that. As crazy as it was to think that an older woman like Greta could do damage to a marriage between two young people like them, it had happened. April would have never believed it until it happened to her.

A lot of shit went down that left some unrelenting damage to their once pristine marriage. Yeah, they had no choice but to go along with Greta's twisted schemes, but Blake had begun to enjoy it. He had become an eager participant in the action, and went along with Greta even when it went above and beyond the initial deal. Blake, while staying silent, had gone along with Greta as she viciously humiliated April, his own wife. He had gone along with that old whore in all her twisted plans, without thought of the damage he was doing. Without care that he was brutally humiliating his wife. He turned his brain off and just went along with it, because it felt really good, despite the brutality of it. Even though he was forced to go along with Greta, and that they had no options, April wished she had seen some more fight from him, some more push back. But there was none.

The knowledge that he had enjoyed the nastiness of the action with Greta stuck with April. He went along with it because it felt good. Some part of him enjoyed it. Even though afterwards, he said he was doing his best not to, April knew the truth. He went along with it because of the pleasure, and he didn't give a thought to his wife during the whole thing. Despite them agreeing to let him fuck that wicked old lady, it felt like a deep betrayal for him to actually enjoy it. To take supreme pleasure in not only the sex, but the humiliation of his own wife in the process. Even though, as soon as they left, Blake was nothing but remorseful and apologetic, April just couldn't forget about that.

They had a lot of long talks, April and Blake. As in love as they were, their marriage had been forever altered. Twisted by that scheming old whore, just to satisfy her twisted whims. They even discussed going to see someone, like a therapist or something, to talk out their issues, but neither felt the urge to speak about what had happened to anyone else. Neither wanted to share those events with another soul. But despite the damage wrought by Greta, both sought to make things work. These two were both strongly committed to each other and their marriage, despite everything. So, both agreed that the best course of action was to move on as best they could and never speak of it again, as agreed upon beforehand. If they dwelled on it forever, it would just eat them alive. They had to find some trust in each other that they could get past this.

For his own part, Blake took a while to process this too. For a fair amount of time, he was a far cry from the warm, loving husband he always was, for understandable reasons. April knew that he was just as shocked at his own behavior during those three days as she was. He was processing it and dealing with his guilt for what he'd said and done. But he had a strong spirit, and he eventually began to come out of his shell and become the man she knew and loved again. It seemed like they were making progress and moving on.

It took a little bit before they had sex again. After what had happened, this was understandable. After he had done such wicked things with another woman, that intimacy with his wife was one of the hardest things to get back. Would it be the same as before Greta? Would he want something more? Neither knew for sure. But eventually, they made love, and it was every bit the loving, gentle affair she was used to. And, in her mind, it was as good as ever. It was all she wanted. It was what she feared that she had lost. But no... their marriage and love had persevered.

Every so often, she wished she could see into her husband's brain. Because a few times, it seemed like there were moments where women were hitting on him. Not just normal women, but older women, like Greta. At least none of them were exactly like Greta, but there was definitely a bit more going on than just mere friendliness. Maybe she was just especially attuned to this kind of thing now, or maybe she was paranoid, but something seemed off there. She only wished she could know how deeply Blake had been affected by what happened to him with Greta, and if any of these strange things had impacted him in the same way it had with her. He put on a brave face, but part of her couldn't help but wonder if it was just for her. He had enjoyed those events with Greta on some level. Would he just be able to forget something that gave him such pleasure? Would he be able to move on after what had happened?

Blake had to travel for work every so often, and that's when her fears flared up the worst. Imagining him out there, alone, knowing the types of vipers out there, made her nervous. Knowing how much he had enjoyed that illicit fucking, she couldn't help but fear he might partake again when not under her watchful gaze. But to his credit, he never gave any sign that he was nothing but satisfied with her and their marriage. Maybe he was putting on a brave face for her, but maybe she was just being paranoid.

Her alarms went off badly almost a full year after the thing with Greta. Blake was traveling again, and he was in Chicago. In Greta's neck of the woods, practically within arm's reach. In the winter. It was the same scenario that led them to her doorstep in the first place. And because of that, it triggered all those uncomfortable feelings from the year before. She told herself she was being crazy, but she couldn't stop himself from calling him.

"How's the hotel?" she asked innocently.

"Pretty nice!" he said warmly. "Standing at the window right now. Good view of the lake and the city."

"How's the weather?" she asked innocently. At least it sounded like he was telling the truth, easing her worries.

"Watching the snow come down. It's fucking bitter out there, and did you know that this city's windy?" he asked, making her giggle. A lot of her concerns disappeared.

"Oh, I thought the windy city was just a cute nickname," she replied. A silence hung between them for a minute before she spoke up. "Can't wait till you get back."

"Yeah, me too. Just a few more days," he replied, sounding genuine.

"What are you getting for dinner?" she asked.

"Oh, getting some deep dish. They even deliver up to the room," he stated.

"Well..." she said, not knowing what else to say. "I just wanted to check in. I love you... and hurry back!" she said with a laugh.

"I love you too! And..." he began, before getting interrupted. "Oh. Food's here. Gotta go! Bye!"

"Okay! Bye!" she called out just before he hung up. Feeling at peace, she sat down and smiled.

On the other end, Blake set his phone down. Standing in his hotel room, he walked towards the door, pulling it open eagerly, looking at the person knocking.

"Hi baby," Greta purred, grinning, standing in tight khaki pants and a tight red top, clinging to her huge bust.

"Hi, Mama..." Blake said with a wolfish grin, stepping aside, letting her in, closing the door behind him.

************

Needless to say, Blake hadn't moved on from what happened.

He tried to. He tried to forget about what had happened, but he just couldn't. He still loved April. He honestly did. But how could he possibly forget about Greta? About what they'd done together? Despite his dislike of her, every time he thought of her, his cock turned into iron. When he first met her, she seemed like a nice, friendly, pretty old lady. Now, knowing her as he did, seeing her in her rawest form, he couldn't help but think of her as the sexiest woman he'd ever met.

Much sexier than his wife.

It wasn't so much that he got over what happened with Greta. He simply made peace with it. He separated himself from it. That was another life. Another him. In that moment, he had to do it. It didn't have anything to do with his wife, and it didn't take anything away from how much he loved his wife. But he made peace with the fact that he both loved his wife and fantasized about Greta every fucking night.

Everything Greta said was correct. He could not forget about her. He couldn't stop fantasizing about Greta, and thinking about their time together. The crazy sex they had had. He always came hardest when thinking about Greta.

She was his dream woman.

And another thing Greta was right about was the way older women looked at him now. It was uncanny. He got hit on by older women all the time now. At a restaurant, getting flirted with by a hot older blonde waitress with a wicked sharp tongue and huge, bouncy jugs. In downtown, getting chatted up by an older, fit brunette with a perfect, firm, shapely ass, covered in yoga pants. When dealing with the woman that worked in the office of his apartment building, their friendly conversation took a turn for the flirtatious. At first, he would laugh off these interactions, but they wore on him. He couldn't help but recall Greta saying how their encounter would leave a mark on him. That older women would know that he'd fucked one of their own. And as crazy as it sounded, it kinda felt true. He kept being hit on by older women, and the more it happened, the more it took its toll. These interactions, on top of his continued thoughts of Greta, eventually got to him.

At work, late one night, in an office with plenty of young stunning women who would probably give up anything to hook up with Blake, he ended up fucking a 48-year-old secretary with big tanned tits, trashy make-up, and a slightly faded tramp stamp above her full ass, mere minutes after she began rubbing his shoulders and gently resting her big boobs against the back of his neck. That was how easy it was to be pushed over the edge into infidelity again. That was how worked up with lust he'd become. That was how easy it was for him to forsake his wedding vows. That was how potent his lust for older women truly was.

This wasn't his last affair. Not by a long shot. He would often jog around the neighborhood near his apartments, and he ended up getting chatted up by a sundress-clad older woman with silver-tinged hair and absolutely massive tits working on her garden. And clearly, she had no shame, because their friendly conversation quickly turned flirtatious. Within a few minutes, she had dragged him around the house, got on her knees, and sucked him off till he came all over her big tanned tits.

One of the women in his apartment building, an older, sporty brunette with a round, shapely ass and huge fleshy tits, would always make a point to chat him up whenever they crossed paths. She kept mentioning, totally off-hand, that she was taking a pole-dancing class, so she had set up a pole in her apartment. She kept intimating that he should swing by and check it out sometime. And eventually, he accepted, to even her slight surprise.