I definitely shouldn't have slept with my wife's sister!!

"You fucked my sister?!" my wife shrieked.
"Honey, it's not like that -"
"Not like that!" she pointed her chopsticks at me. "What was it like?"
"Listen, I mean... I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen, but -"
"Shut up," she hissed, her green eyes boring into me. "When we get home, I'm going to beat the fuck out of you. Then -" she stabbed a dumpling with her chopsticks - "I'm going to beat the shit out of her. Then I'll start thinking about what you need to do before I'm willing to forgive you."
"Okay, honey." I looked down into my lo mien. I'd taken my wife to her favorite Chinese place in the hopes it would dampen her temper, but it didn't seem to be working. "Can I explain what happened?"
"I know what happened," Debra scoffed. "Don't think she cares about you, or wanted to have sex with you specifically. She just has to try to take everything I have. You know," she leaned forward, really warming to the subject, "she's tried to fuck every boyfriend I've ever had, just because she could. I guess I just thought my HUSBAND would be able to keep his DICK in his pants!" The couple at the next table was agape, but one mean glare from my angry wife was enough to send them back to their food.

It was a awkward rest of the dinner as Debra stared holes in me from under her beat-up cowboy hat, and a equally awkward ride home as I knew what was waiting for me when we got there. We’d tussled for fun a few times, and I knew from that how strong my wife was; she’s a stocky, powerful woman, thickly built and an inch taller than me at 5’9” (usually even taller in her cowgirl boots). I snuck a few looks at her on the way home, and unsurprisingly she was scowling the whole time; when she smiles my wife can light up a room, but I was getting more and more worried as her round face was setting into what seemed like an angrier and angrier expression every time I looked, her small mouth losing its cute, distinctive heart-shaped shape as it twisted more and more into a hurt frown.

The front door had barely finished closing before my wife was stripping off her orange sundress. "Take your clothes off," she ordered, removing her hat and flipping her long golden blonde hair over her shoulder. I briefly wondered about grabbing her hair during the fight - it was down brushing the top of her breasts, and it looked like it might give me an advantage; then again she was already spitting mad, and it probably wasn't a great idea to piss her off even further. “You need me to undress you?!” she yelled. I shook my head, stripping off my shirt, then my pants, unable to stop myself from getting hard as she was down to just her panties and cowgirl boots. "Now don't get any ideas," she hissed, looking at my cock tenting out my underwear. "You're going to be lucky if I don't rip that thing off. Come on." She lead me upstairs and into our guest bedroom, closing the door behind us and attacking without warning, slapping me across the face so hard my head snapped around with the hit. I flinched at the unexpected pain and she followed up by digging a hard right punch into my gut. Shocked and winded, I slumped against her, and she reached into my boxers and gave my cock a double-handed twist that had me screaming in agony. I went down to my knees and found myself looking up at my furious wife.

"How's that feel?" she barked in my face. "I'm going to make sure you never use that again! Get up!"
Now I knew rationally that no matter how angry my wife was, she wasn't really going to destroy my junk, but that didn't make it any less scary at that moment; she was even madder than the time the cat threw up on the bedspread. She drew her hand back for another slap, but she'd paused just too long and I launched myself into her from my knees, wrapping my arms around her midsection and taking us both down to the ground, me on top of her. The carpet in the guest room is pretty thick, but I got enough of my weight on top of her to knock some of the air out of her. I tried to hold her down and get a grapevine on her legs to keep her down, but she threw me off her and we both got up. She didn't look any less mad as we faced off, and she charged me throwing wild punches. I ducked, her fist sailing over my head, and darted forward with my own blow, hitting her hard in the stomach. She’s got strong abs, but she wasn’t flexed, and I heard her gasp, bending over just the slightest bit; I hooked my right leg behind her left and pushed on her shoulders, tripping her down to the floor, where she landed on her back with a feminine grunt. I went to start laying some stomps into her, but she rolled over and got up to her knees with a growl. I backed up in a hurry, a wise move as she charged me from her crouch. I barely managed to weave to the side and she barreled past me, unable to stop; she hit the wall with a splat, bouncing off it and falling down, looking pretty hurt.

I knew I wasn’t going to get many chances like this and had to make the most of it. I quickly pulled my wife’s underwear off, leaving her in just her boots, then rolled her over onto her front; I tried to tie her hands behind her back with her own panties, but I guess this would have worked better with her bra (sadly left downstairs) as I couldn’t make a tight cinch.
“Call that a knot?” my wife taunted me, easily freeing her arms, pressing her arms against the floor as she got to all fours, then up to her feet. We faced off again and she struck first, darting forward and grabbing the waistband of my boxers. My instinct was to reach down and grab her wrists, but I knew she was too strong for this; instead I let her pull my underwear down to my feet as I locked my hands together, then slammed them into her back as she had to bend over to finish stripping me. She hit the floor on her chest with a cry, clearly not expecting the hit. I quickly sat down on her back, reaching forward to grab her ankles, pulling her legs up and back. I don’t know if this was the most expertly applied Boston crab, but it sure seemed to be working on my wife as she hollered in pain. Unfortunately my submission hold was short lived as she powered out, pressing her hands against the floor, her body rising and pushing me off her.

As we both got to our feet it at least looked like I’d managed to inflict some damage as my wife scowled at me, reaching behind her to rub her sore back with her left hand. “Alright, you got some moves,” she conceded, taking up a boxer’s stance. “Come on now.”
If she thought I was going to fistfight her she was out of her mind; I had no doubt she could lay me out flat with just a few of her power punches. She came at me throwing jabs at my head and I went low, charging her and trying to tackle her to the ground; but she was too close, and although I hit her abs with my shoulder, she had time to brace and managed to take the hit without being knocked down. I ended up bent over in front of her, my arms around her body; it was her turn to hit me with a double ax-handle in the back, and with her added strength this hurt like hell. I hit the floor on my face, and before I knew what was happening she’d stomped me in the back of her head with one of her cowgirl boots.

This hurt as much as you might imagine, and I covered the back of my head with both hands, dazed. My wife started stomping the fight out of me with her boots; each impact sent a lance of white-hot pain through my body. I managed to roll over, and as bad as her stomps had been to my back, the ones she landed to my stomach and upper thighs were even worse; I whimpered in helpless agony, the pain too much for me to think of anything but uselessly covering up.
“Ahh, what’s the matter, hun?” she yelled down at me. “You hurtin’? This is what happens when you make a cowgirl jealous!”
“Let me up,” I pleaded. To my amazement she actually left off the stomps, backing up and glaring at me with her hands on her hips.
“Well? Get on up then; I’m not done whooping up on you!”
It took me a minute to recover; a few deep breaths and I was able to get up, although I was aching both front and back. She put her fists up to box again, and I tried to lay a trap for her as she came in on me, feinting a low blow and then going for her face. With my speed I was able to draw her hands down, but I don’t know a lot about boxing, and the hit I managed to her face was an awkward one that glanced off her jaw.


“What the hell was that?” she barked. “You call that a punch?!” She lowered her fists: “Go on, try again. You must be able to do better than that!” I considered my targets. Her abs were invincible; I didn’t want to make her even madder hitting her tits, so I went for her face, drawing my fist back. My wife didn’t even flinch as I landed the hardest hit I could square in the middle of her face. I hit her so hard my knuckles hurt, so I could only imagine how this felt for my wife. The force of the hit knocked her down on her back, and I could see her eyes glazed over for a second. I got on all fours next to her.
“Debra!” I shook her shoulders. “Deb, speak to me!”
“Uhh,” she groaned. “God damn. I guess you can throw a punch.”
“I think we should stop now.”
“Hell no,” she angrily pushed me away and got to her feet. “You ain’t learned your lesson yet!”
I sighed and got to my feet as well. She came in throwing punches again, but it looked like the one I’d floored her with made her cautious; she made sure she was covered up at all times now, and all the hits I got on her smacked into her fists or forearms. I realized too late that I’d been right originally that boxing with her was a losing proposition for me as she whipped her hand through a hole in my sloppy guard, her fist slamming into my stomach. I took a shaky step back, covering my midsection, which of course left the rest of me open as she followed, aiming a huge right hook at my head. Fueled by panic, I barely managed to duck, feeling the wind of her passing hand through my hair. I had an opening and grabbed the back of her knees, yanking as hard as I could; her legs went out from under her and my wife fell backwards with a surprised yelp, landing hard on the floor with a grunt in front of me. I tried to grab her ankles, thinking of flipping her over and getting the crab back on, but she drew back her right leg and before i could get out of the way slammed her foot into my sore stomach. I stumbled backwards as she climbed to her feet. I was winded, and I couldn’t stop her as she came in, wrapping her arms around my torso and squeezing. This hurt bad enough, but it got even worse as she picked me up off the ground, roaring into my chest as she worked the bearhug. I had my arms free, but it did me little good as I uselessly slapped her strong arms. I gasped and panted, her strong arms crushing the air out of me; I frantically changed tactics, trying to get out of the hold before she squeezed me unconscious. I went for her face, getting my hands on her cheeks and pushing her head back; one of my fingers ended up in her mouth, and I guess this was enough for her as she threw herself forward, smashing me between her body and the floor.

As she rolled off me I was hurt and dazed; some part of me was screaming to get up, but I was hurting badly and barely managed to sit up before my wife pounced. She lifted me up easily, laying me across her broad shoulders; one of her hands hooked around my neck, the other on my right leg. I knew what was coming and tried to prepare myself, but as she flexed her shoulders up and pulled down I screamed in pain as she stretched my back until I thought it would break. She flexed and released, each pull sending pain shooting through my body. I ran out of energy to even scream, just grunting in pain until she threw me down to the floor. I lay there limp as she loomed over me, feeling like I’d never be able to get up again.

“You about done?” she seethed. I nodded - even managing this felt like an accomplishment. “Well then, you’re gonna do what I say?” She placed the bottom of her right boot over my balls; the threat was implicit - either I’d agree or she’d squash my nuts flat.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Get up then.”
“I can’t,” I admitted. With an annoyed sigh she grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up, spinning me around so she was behind me, pushing me over to the bed. I stood bent over it, my hands flat on the bedspread. She pressed her body against me, her nipples digging into my back.
"Now there's only two ways to deal with an animal who can't control himself," she hissed in my ear. "The first is gelding him." Her hands reached around my body, squeezing my cock and balls. "And y'all are real lucky I still got some use for these. Aintcha?" I opened my mouth to respond, but she bore down and all I could do was moan. To my intense embarrassment, I was getting hard in her grip, the feel of her hard body rubbing against mine from behind not helping. “Look at this! You’re catching wood right now! Well, you’re about to find out the other way of dealing with a wild beast.” She backed off enough to give my ass a hard smack. “Now don’t you move.”
I didn’t, but I turned my head over my shoulder to see what she was doing as she went to the closet and pulled out her strapon. We’d experimented with this a little, but not recently - hence it being at the bottom of the closet in the guest bedroom. My wife grimly slid the rig up her legs and snapped the harness firmly into place. If I didn't know she was about to destroy my ass with it, it would have been a little comical her standing there with a very determined look on her face as she stroked the dildo thrusting out of her crotch. As it was, I was mostly filled with fear and arousal as she came back over to me. She cupped my face in her hands, turning my head so I was facing forward. Nothing happened for a second as she went to get some lube; the next thing I knew her thumb was entering my ass, spreading the cool lube around my hole. She was using a lot, which meant she was probably preparing for a long, rough ride. Finished, her hand came around my body, rubbing the excess lube on my hardening cock. Then she braced her hands on my sides. I took a deep breath and did my best to unclench as the tip pressed against my asshole. It slipped in, and I moaned as she slid home. She started slow and gentle, but her strokes quickly became harder and faster, her hips slamming into my butt as she fucked my ass.


"Since you can't keep it in your pants, honey, I'm not letting you go until you're shooting dust!” she crowed. My wife didn’t exactly give me a handjob; she got my cock in a loose two-handed grip, and the movement of her hips fucking my ass forced my dick through her fingers, almost like she was using my cock to fuck her hands. I tried to hold on, but it was pointless; I was completely in her power now, and trying not to cum was just extending how long she was going to keep fucking me. All I could do was hold on, leaking pre-cum as she got me closer and closer until I knew I didn’t have much time left.
“Gonna cum,” I rasped.
“Go ahead.”
“But the - uhhhhh,” I gasped as she picked up the pace even more - “I’m gonna make a mess on the bedspread!”
"Don't worry, we can wash it later. Unless," her lips were at my ear, "I make you lick it all up. Anyway, you can't stop yourself, now can you?"
She was right; even with her threat to make me eat it in the air, I couldn't keep it in as I started cumming, long strings of jizz flying out of my cock as my wife continued fucking my ass. She was merciless, barely even slowing down as I climaxed or came down; I made whining gasps as I started getting soft in her grip.


“Oh, now what’s the matter? I know you’ve got some more in there. You need a little more, is that it? You like being humiliated?” Her hips slowed a bit as she kept her right hand around my cock, the left sliding up to tease my nipples. “Yeah, you like this? You like being played with like a girl?” The moan I’d been trying to bite down escaped with perfect timing as she dominated me. “Well, I guess so. You’re too much of a perv to even be humiliated, is that it?” My hardening cock was all the answer I could provide; she tightened up her grip a little bit, adding some extra stimulation. By now I’d gone from bracing myself against the bed to leaning back against my wife as she pegged me. “Are you going to cum again, you little pussy? Are you going to cum from me fucking your little ass like this? Huh?”
“Yes,” I gasped.
“Good, because I’m not going to stop until you do, and then for a while after.” With that she stopped taunting me, lowering her mouth to suck on my neck. She worked me like this for a few minutes before I came again, only her left arm around my body holding me up as I unleashed a second cumshot on the bedspread. True to her word, she didn’t stop, even as I emptied out and my dick started getting soft again.
“That’s all I have, please,” I pleaded. “There’s nothing left!”
“Aw, now you beg so nice with my cock in your ass,” she told me. “But I think you still got some in there.” She closed her right hand, switching from her hips pushing my dick against it to a fast reach-around; she started with just her index finger and thumb, but as I got hard again she was able to use her whole fist, giving me a fast, rough reacharound. She turned out to be right in the end as she worked a third climax out of me, just a few weak little spurts. I wanted to cry with relief as she released me, finally pulling the strapon out of my sore ass, letting me slide to the floor in a broken heap. “What do you think you’re doing napping down there? You’re not done yet!”

She picked me up, laying me down on my back on the bed, then sat on my face, the strapon high enough on her hips that she didn’t even have to take it off to press her crotch against my nose and mouth. She’d gotten turned on dominating me, her pussy already dripping wet. I made to start eating her out, but she was firmly in control, reaching behind her to grab a handful of my hair, her other hand steadying herself on my stomach, as she started riding my face. All I could do was lay there as she got herself off on me; by the time she rolled off with a satisfied grunt I was truly finished.
It took two days before I could get out of bed, but I counted myself lucky; my wife forgave me for cheating on her, and I’ll admit the treatment she gave me was enough to make sure I never thought of it again. As much as I wanted to put it all behind me, she wasn’t quite done; her next fight was going to be against her sister, and I was told my attendance was mandatory.