Wife's Gangbang Audition for Cuckold Husband

Magnus was thirty-two, and the addiction had a schedule. After dinner he opened the laptop. After the laptop he found a gangbang, always a gangbang, some wife held open by men who did not love her while the frame loved the mess. He watched for hours. Elise had stopped asking him to come to bed on time. She was twenty-eight, married to him for four years, and she knew the particular silence that meant his hand was moving and his mind was somewhere she had not yet been invited.

He closed the screen that night before he finished. That was how she knew the ask would be worse than usual.

"There's a club on Mercer," he said. His voice had gone thin. "Black windows. The one people don't name at work. They run auditions out of the back. I want you to go."

She knew the place without needing the name. A strip club with a reputation that traveled farther than its neon: illegal prostitution in the paid rooms, and the gang that kept those rooms like territory. Magnus wanted her to audition there so he could finally watch his own wife get used, not an actress, not a tab, her.

Elise's stomach dropped. Nerves climbed her throat, cold and bright. She pictured a sticky floor and strangers' hands and her own face doing something she could not take back. She worked the front desk at a dental office on the decent side of town. None of that felt like armor.

"You're begging," she said, because he was, knuckles white on his own knee.

"Yes." He didn't dress it up. "I'm addicted to watching it, Elise. Hours of wives in gangbangs. I need to see it happen to you. An interview. If you pass, you can perform later, and I'll be right there. Please. Do it for me."

She was nervous enough that her hands would not stay still. She was also the woman who had listened to his confessions since they were both well into adulthood, and who had felt, every time, the hot strange pride of being the thing that undid him. She wanted to fulfill the fantasy. The want sat under the fear and did not erase it. It simply weighed more.

"You come with me," she said. "You watch. If I say stop, it stops."

"I won't look away," Magnus said.

She agreed before courage could leak out of her.

The club was exactly as foul as its reputation. Stale beer lived in the carpet. A stage light buzzed. Magnus kept half a step behind her, already breathing like a man at the edge of a video he had paused a thousand times.

The room at the end was not an office. It was a low-ceilinged space with a stained couch, a plastic chair, and four men who looked up as one when the door opened. Not a single interviewer. The entire gang.

Reid was thirty-four, broad through the shoulders, a scar through one eyebrow, calm in the way of a man who did not have to raise his voice. Cole, thirty-one, leaned on the chair with his sleeves shoved up. Darius, twenty-nine, sat on the couch arm, watching her mouth. Victor, thirty-six, stood with his arms folded, in no hurry at all.

Elise stopped in the doorway. Her pulse hammered. "I thought this was an interview."

"It is," Reid said. "With all of us. You still want it, or did your husband talk you into a story you don't mean?"

She looked at Magnus. He had gone pale and bright at once, eyes huge, already lost. She looked back at Reid. The nerves were a live wire under her skin. So was the choice.

"I mean it," she said. "I want to do this for him."

"Then strip."

Her fingers were clumsy on the buttons of her dress. Fabric pooled at her ankles. Panties last, peeled down with a shake she could not hide. Cool air touched her breasts, her stomach, the soft place between her thighs. They looked at her without politeness. Magnus made a small wrecked sound and stayed where Reid pointed, against the wall, hands visible.

"Bend," Cole said.

She bent, palms on the couch. The first spank landed from Reid, full-palmed, hard enough to knock a gasp out of her and print heat across her ass. Cole matched it on the other cheek, then again, a rhythm of cracks that stacked sting on sting until her skin sang. Victor caught her left nipple and twisted. Pain flared, mean and exact. He rolled the peak, pinched until her eyes watered, pulled it out and twisted again. Darius took the right and did worse, a brutal torque, a slap to the soft underside, another pinch that held.

Spanking and nipple torture arrived together, her ass heating while her nipples were worried into swollen aching points. She had walked in nervous. Between the fourth slap and the second vicious twist, the nervousness cracked and something hotter poured through. Her cunt clenched. Wetness gathered, slicking her. A moan broke out of her that was not fear.

"Listen to that," Reid said, laying another hard smack across her reddening ass. "Scared wife walked in shaking and now she's dripping."

Elise realized there would be no polite interview and a later performance. This was the gangbang her husband craved, already happening, and her body had decided to want it. Against the wall, Magnus stroked himself through his pants in short stunned pulls, face open with a bliss that looked like pain.

"Still yes?" Victor asked, giving her the out.

"Yes," she gasped. "Don't stop. I want it."

She dropped to her knees because she wanted to. The carpet was rough. Her ass throbbed. Her nipples stood out sore and dark. She looked up at the four of them and said it so there would be no argument later about what she had chosen.

"Use me. All of you. I want the whole thing."

Reid turned, shoved his pants down, and spread himself. "Start there. Lick my ass. Properly."

Elise had never rimmed a man. She leaned in anyway, tongue flattening against the hot cleft of him, tasting salt and sweat and dark musk. She found the tight ring and licked it, circling, pressing, getting him wet, more enthusiastic once the shame flipped into heat. Cole's hand cracked across her ass while she did it. Victor crouched and caught both nipples, twisting them in opposite directions until she whimpered into Reid's hole and licked harder to ride the pain.

They rotated her. Cole bent over the chair. She buried her face and rimmed him with open devotion, spit shining his hole, tongue spearing and swirling while Darius spanked her in steady stinging blows that drove her forward. Reid took her nipples, pinching, rolling, pulling the tender peaks until tears stood in her eyes and her cunt pulsed empty and greedy. She moaned into Cole's ass and felt filthy and fiercely alive.

Darius spread himself with both hands. She licked the sweat from him, thorough and noisy, tracing the rim and dipping just inside the way his hiss told her he liked. Victor spanked her harder now that her ass was already red, each crack a bright flare that made her push her tongue deeper. Cole kept one nipple in a cruel pinch and flicked the other until she shook.

Victor was last and heaviest through the thighs. She rimmed him longest, sloppy and devoted, worshipping the tight muscle until his breath went ragged and his hand fisted in her hair. Every man. She had put her mouth on every one of them where they were dirtiest, and the knowledge made her drip onto her own heels. Magnus watched with his cock out, fist working in slow shining strokes, eyes wet. Cuckold bliss sat on him like a fever. He did not look away.

"Up," Reid said. "Couch. Hands and knees."

She climbed on. Reid drove into her pussy in one long push, and she was so wet he sank to the base. Cole fed her his length at the same time, heavy on her tongue, fucking her mouth in short claims while Reid fucked her from behind. Spank after spank landed on her burning ass, Darius and Victor taking turns, the impacts jolting her onto both cocks. Her nipples were caught, twisted, tortured without pause, brutal pinches that made her sob around Cole and shove back for more.

They passed her without letting the ache fade. Cole took her cunt, deeper and meaner, while Reid slid into her mouth still slick from her and made her taste herself. Darius spanked. Victor pulled her nipples out and rolled them hard between callused fingers until the pain went bright and melted into the same heat as the fucking. She said yes around the cock in her throat. She said it again when they flipped her onto Darius, who lay back and let her sink down, riding, breasts bouncing, nipples so sore that every movement ached.

Victor stood on the couch and pushed into her mouth. Reid's palm cracked across her ass each time she rose. Cole reached under and twisted both nipples while she rode, a constant cruel pressure that made her clench around Darius and moan like she had forgotten the woman who had been nervous in the car. They put her on her back. Victor fucked her hard, folding her thighs up, while Cole spanked the side of her ass and Reid tortured her nipples with twists that stayed just inside the yes she kept giving.

They switched again, relentless, a rotation of cocks in her cunt and down her throat, spanking that kept her ass hot and swollen, nipple torture that never let the throb die. She took it. She wanted it. The want was loud, a bright animal yes that kept opening her. Magnus stroked faster, precome slicking his fingers, face slack with the exact bliss he had chased through a thousand videos. This was his wife. This was real.

Reid pulled out when he got close. "On your knees. Open. Swallow all of it."

She slid to the carpet and opened her mouth. He came in thick pulses over her tongue and down her throat, and she swallowed, not wasting it, taking every drop until he was finished. Cole fucked her face until he flooded her, salty and heavy. She gulped him down, eyes watering, and showed a clean tongue because he told her to. Darius emptied himself in long spurts she swallowed one after another, obedient and greedy, chasing a stray string back with her tongue. Victor lasted longest. He held her hair, used her mouth, and when he came he pushed deep and gave her the biggest load, pulse after pulse straight down her throat. She swallowed all of it. All of them.

Then they turned, spent and still wanting the rest of what she had offered, and she rimmed them clean. Reid first, licking his hole and the underside of him until he was shining. Cole, thorough, tongue cleaning sweat and the last salt. Darius, who groaned and held her hair without forcing. Victor, who kept her there until she had licked him pristine. Lighter spankings still landed, sharp on abused skin. Fingers still found her nipples and twisted. She did it willingly. She did it well. Magnus stroked through it, wrecked and shining.

The room smelled like sex and old carpet. Elise knelt in the middle of it, ass red, nipples swollen, throat coated, a thin glaze of cum shining on her chin, sore in every place they had used and satisfied under the soreness.

Reid nodded, the closest thing to praise the room seemed built for. "You pass. You take a spanking. You take the nipples. You rim, you swallow, you don't flake."

"Bring her back," Cole said. Darius and Victor agreed. The gang was satisfied.

Elise turned her head. Magnus was still against the wall, cock in his fist, cum on his fingers, eyes blown wide. She looked directly at him, voice hoarse and steady.

"I passed," she said. "I passed the audition."

He nodded, ruined and grateful, and the knowledge landed in both of them at once. This was not a story they would file away. This was the beginning of the cuckold life his addiction had been rehearsing, her at the center and him where he had asked to stand: to the side, watching, stroking, never again the only man who got to have her.

Tomorrow he would beg her to come back, and they both already knew she would say yes.