CUHW Vol. 01: Olive Andrews

Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of completely fictional incest or fictional incest content.

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My name is Olive, I am 34, and I live in Florida. My husband, Robert, is a bit older than I am. Well, He is 50. Everyone thinks I am a gold digger or something of the sort, but Robert and I are truly in love... at least I thought we were... or I was. I am not sure anymore. Robert has a law firm that I worked for when I was 25 and fresh out of college. He was invited to the university I had attended to give a lecture, and he became my mentor soon after. He had promised me a job once I graduated, and I held him to that offer. It was only a few months of working with him that I started to notice him looking at me differently; lusting..

I had decided to test my theory of Robert lusting after me, so I showed up to work one Friday in a button-down shirt with a tight skirt that showed off my curves. I wore shorter heels so he would look right into my cleavage when he looked down to speak to me. My first few top buttons were undone, so you even got a nice glimpse of my green lace push-up bra. I had never seen a man blush before, but it was so evident that he wanted me, but I was not sure in what way exactly. Robert waited until everyone else cleared out of the office before boldly asking me to accompany him to dinner. I agreed with a bit of hesitation. I ran to the ladies' room and made sure my burgundy curls were still bouncing, reapplied my lipstick, rubbed some of my oil on my wrist, neck, waist, and thighs, and I was already for him.

Dinner with Robert was amazing that night. We chatted about work before breaking the ice into a deeper conversation. He was a humanitarian; he had fostered children, and he was a true gentleman. He cared about my growth and my being successful. I know he always wanted that for me ever since we met, but it made him attractive to me now. I studied his face, admiring his bright blue eyes and his lips. His salt and pepper beard made me want to stroke it. At one point, I zoned out and began to wonder if his beard would tickle me while I rode his face. My nipples began to harden, and I could tell he noticed. He called for the check, and we were soon back in his limo. Neither of us was ready to end the night, so Robert ordered his driver to take us down to the Oceanfront, about a fifteen-minute ride.

I was feeling anxious during the ride, my whole body humming. I couldn't stop moving in my seat and Robert's eyes mellowed with a knowing smirk curling on his lips. Without a word, his strong hand settled on my thigh, fingers gliding up my stockings in a slow, possessive caress, fingertips tracing the edge of my garter. I met his gaze, heat blazing between us, and boldly guided his hand even further. His breath shifted when he realized there was nothing blocking his path--no panties, only my bare pussy, aching and exposed for him. The shock and desire in his eyes made my pulse race. I didn't give him time to recover. Still holding his hand, I pressed him against my swollen folds, grinding into his palm, showing him just how badly I wanted it. He growled--a deep, hungry sound that sent a thrill straight to my core. Suddenly, his fingers found my entrance, thick and eager, sliding inside with a wet, obscene sound that made us both gasp. My head fell back, lips parted in a moan as his fingers filled me, curling and twisting, searching for that spot that would make me unravel. He didn't stop. The car filled with the scent of my arousal, the slap of his palm against my drenched pussy echoing in the confined space. He wanted more.

I'd never crossed this kind of line before--never with a boss, never with a man so much older, never with a white man who looked at me like he wanted to devour me. The thrill of doing something so forbidden in the back of that luxurious limo made my pussy throb even harder. Robert's fingers plunged into me, thick and relentless, twisting and curling so deep I gasped and shuddered. He pumped fast, his palm smacking up against my drenched slit, making the most obscene, wet sounds as I ground down on his hand, grinding my swollen clit on his thumb. Every thrust sent a shockwave through my body, my pleasure mounting so quickly it almost hurt. He angled his hand just right, and suddenly, I was gushing around his fingers, my cum spraying over his wrist and dripping onto the leather seat. Instead of stopping, he fucked me harder, making me squirt again, wringing every last drop out of me while he growled filthy praise in my ear--calling me a good girl, his dirty little slut, his perfect fucktoy. I couldn't catch my breath, my body convulsing, my thighs soaked.

Almost without warning, he was on his knees between my legs, spreading me open wide. He buried his face in my dripping cunt, tongue stabbing deep, licking up every drop of my mess and swirling his tongue over my clit until I was thrashing uncontrollably. He gripped my thighs hard, holding me open while he devoured me, tongue and lips working me ruthlessly. My shirt was yanked open, my breasts bouncing free, nipples aching and hard. He sucked one into his mouth, biting down gently, then pinched and slapped both until I squealed, the pain flaming into pleasure. I rode his face shamelessly, bucking and moaning, the windows fogging up around us. I lost count of how many times I came--on his fingers, on his tongue, on the hungry curve of his mouth--until I was a trembling, soaked mess. By the time the limo stopped at my apartment, Robert's lips glistened with my cum, and I was ruined for anyone else. That night changed everything for both of us.

At first, we were careful and professional in the workplace, but after three full weeks of spontaneous orgasms in his limo, he became vocal about wanting more, and the feeling was mutual. Within a month, he had moved me into his home, and we were an official couple. The most exhilarating thing is that by this time, I still had not sucked him off, and he still had not yet fucked me. He had never felt the inside of me, and I often wondered why he had not tried. It could not have been because he was old-fashioned. After all, any time I asked him to, he was face deep in me, no matter where we were. I discovered he had E.D., and even with pills, it did not always work, but I took that as a personal challenge.

I came home from work early one night and got sexy for Robert. He loved it when I wore red hair, so I got this fire-engine-red wig that came down to my butt. I had a lace bra and panties set, and my nipples were exposed; the panties were also crotchless. I noticed in the porn he liked to watch, the women always wore fishnets, so I thought it was a nice touch as well. For dinner, I made his favorite, Salmon with cheesy spinach tortellini. A nice red wine sat on the dinner table, lit by some candles. When it was time for him to pull into the driveway, I ran upstairs to run him a bubble bath. It was steaming hot, so it wouldn't cool down much if we took too long. Robert pulled in right on time, and I met him at the door. The smile on his face told me I picked the right outfit. I greeted him with a hug and a kiss that made his knees buckle. He was excited about dinner, but he wanted to skip right to the fun. I took him by the hand and walked him up the stairs to his bubble bath that had cooled nicely. He got undressed and slid into the tub while I took my robe off, but I got in with my lingerie still on. I straddled him and began to kiss him again, moving from his mouth down to his neck and then to his chest. The sounds he made let me know I was doing well.

As I went back to kissing his lips, I put my hand on his cock and began to rub it slowly. He threw his head back, closing his eyes. I felt him thicken a little, so I went a little more, giving him all the passion I could possibly give him. Finally, I stood up, turned around, and bent over in front of Robert. Without me asking, he started eating my pussy from the back. I put my hand back on his cock, stroking him and moaning while he pleasured me, and then it happened. I felt it... he was standing at full attention just for me, so I stood him up quickly, sat on the side of the tub, and started sucking his nine-inch cock. I put his head all the way down my throat as I licked his balls while gagging on him. He held my head there while he enjoyed the feeling of my throat.

Still dripping wet from the bath, he scooped me up and carried me to the bed, his hands gripping my thighs with a force that made me shiver. He bent me over at the edge, spreading me open with a hungry determination that sent a jolt through my entire body. I let out a sensual sigh as he went harder and deeper, setting a pace that was animalistic. His hands clutched onto my hips, holding me in place as he pounded my pussy, each thrust pushing me forward, making my breasts bounce. This was no soft and sensual first time; this was raw, desperate need, months of longing and teasing finally unleashed. He slapped my ass, leaving a sting that melted into pleasure, then leaned over me while whispering filthy things as he drove into me. I clawed at the sheets, tears of pleasure streaming down my face as my orgasm tore through me, my body convulsing around his cock. He roared my name, filling me so completely I thought I'd break. Even after he came, he didn't stop--he knelt behind me, spreading me wider to watch his cum spill out, then dove in, licking and sucking until I was a shaking, overstimulated mess. He devoured me, made me cum again, and again, until I was hoarse from screaming and my legs were trembling. Nights like that only happened once in a blue moon, but after that, he made sure I came at least twice a day, every day. Within that year, we were married.

Now, here we are coming up on our tenth anniversary in just a few months, and so much has changed. I now work from home, and we have unlocked some new kinks. I've grown fond of humiliation. Being dominated and degraded really gets me going, though I haven't figured out why yet, but a little bit of bruising doesn't hurt either. Robert, on the other hand, likes to watch me get fucked by multiple men at once. Strangers. His favorite part is when they fill my back door with their seeds. We have made these parties a monthly habit, and I've become quite popular for my live cam shows, but a lawyer turned porn star is a story for another time. So, once a month, we get a new group of guys tested, they come over for dinner, and have me for dessert. His only rule is that I cannot have the same man more than twice. He does not want any outside relationships to be built, and I do not sleep with anyone outside of the house. Our house has cameras, so if I choose to bring a man home, he can easily watch from work. Robert did not seem like the cuck type at first, but as the years have progressed in our marriage, he has become even more considerate of my needs as a still somewhat young woman. He wants me to be happy.

We just recently had to put our parties on hold because Robert's adopted brother, Andrew, was having renovations done at his home and needed a quiet, comfortable place to stay until all the work was done. Andrew is 41 and has the physique of a God. He has the perfect smile, gorgeous brown eyes, and caramel-colored skin. He is Polynesian and Jamaican with flowing hair down his back. The first week with him around was nice, but things got a little too chaotic after that. He strutted around the house in nothing but his boxers, his thick cock outlined boldly, always half-hard, taunting me with every step. Sometimes he'd "accidentally" drop something on the floor, bending over right in front of me, letting his bulge sway, knowing I couldn't look away.

Robert egged him on, making lewd jokes in front of me--"Careful, Andrew, keep waving that thing around and Olive's going to pounce on you"--while giving me a wicked, knowing grin. When I'd walk by, Robert would grab my waist and say, "Bet you're wondering how your mouth would feel around that, aren't you?" flush with mischief, his eyes flicking between Andrew and me.

Andrew teased me constantly, brushing his cock across my ass when I bent down, or standing extra close behind me at the sink, letting his heat and hardness press into my back. Sometimes he'd whisper in my ear, "Bet you'd love to taste me right here, wouldn't you?" while Robert watched, smirking. They'd play little games--Robert daring Andrew to show off by flexing or stretching, Andrew pulling his waistband down just enough for me to catch a glimpse. If I was in the fridge, Andrew would graze his hand over my hip, fingers dangerously close to slipping between my legs, and Robert would say, "Don't tease her too much, bro... unless you want to see her beg."

It was a constant, electric back-and-forth, both men using every opportunity to make me ache with need, testing how far they could push me, how badly I wanted to break the rules. At first, I thought it was just a game for them, but soon I realized they wanted me to snap--and I was desperate to let them take me there.

Last week, when I was getting out of the shower, I heard Robert and Andrew talking again--except this time, their voices were low and hungry, full of secret promises and wicked intent. Robert's words sent a molten thrill through me: "You want her, don't you? Don't worry, I'll be at work. She'll be yours--just make it memorable." It was a betrayal and a dare rolled into one. Andrew didn't hesitate, his voice rough with anticipation. "I'll make her beg. You'll have plenty to watch." The thought of them plotting my seduction behind my back made my skin flush and my pussy clench with forbidden need. I burned to take control of their little game and turn it into something none of us would ever forget.

As soon as Robert fell into his heavy sleep, I slipped out of bed, my heart racing with dark excitement. I was completely nude under my silk robe, dripping with anticipation. I wanted Andrew to see precisely what he was missing. The house was silent, but the air thrummed with tension. I snuck to the lounge area by the pool, pausing to watch Andrew lift weights in the gym. For a moment, I imagined those hands on my throat, those arms pinning me down. I slid my favorite twelve-inch, glow-in-the-dark dildo onto my machine, legs spreading with hunger. I made sure Andrew could see me as I lay back on the chaise, legs wide, and impaled myself on the toy, moaning shamelessly, hips bucking with every thrust. I could feel his eyes burning into me from the other side of the glass.

I cranked the machine up, letting the obscene, wet noises fill the room. "You watching me, Andrew?" I called out, voice thick with lust. "Wish this was your cock, don't you?" My fingers played with my clit as I put on a show, crying out his name, making myself squirt all over the chair, all over the floor. I flipped over, ass in the air, grinding down on the glowing shaft, giving him a perfect view of my soaked, needy pussy. I could hear his breath fogging up the glass, could imagine him stroking that thick cock, desperate to join me. "Come and get it, if you're man enough," I taunted, riding the dildo until I was shaking, juices running down my thighs. I thought maybe I had over dne it so I decided to head upstairs to finish myself off with my wand in my office.

When I finally staggered upstairs, I left the door to my office cracked, wand buzzing on my clit as I lay spread open on the desk. I wanted him to follow, to watch, to know I was just as wild and filthy as he'd fantasized. He never showed up at my office, so I headed to bed. Strangely, as I crept past the guest room, I heard the unmistakable sound of Andrew jerking off. I peeked through the crack, watching him fist his cock, thick and glistening, his eyes screwed shut, muttering my name. I slid two fingers deep, fucking myself as I watched, breathless and aching, matching his pace. I wanted to see him break. I wanted to break with him. When he finally came--groaning, spurting, hips jerking--I came with him, silent and quaking, my orgasm spilling down my thighs. I watched him collapse, spent and ruined, and I knew there was no turning back. I went to bed still trembling, my body humming for the next time we'd cross the line.

The next morning, I drifted awake to the familiar, delicious pressure of a tongue lapping hungrily at my pussy, just as I did every morning--except this time, something was different. I kept my eyes closed at first, letting the pleasure wash over me, grinding my hips shamelessly into the hot mouth devouring my clit. My back arched, thighs trembling, my hand tangled in the sheets as I moaned softly, thinking it was Robert treating me to my daily wake-up call. But then, a pair of rougher hands slid up my body, gripping my breasts with a possessive force that made me gasp. The touch was new--bolder, stronger--a little too big for Robert's. I opened my eyes just as he pinched my nipples, and a jolt of shock and forbidden excitement shot through me. It wasn't Robert. Andrew's eyes were wild as he looked up at me, lips glistening with my arousal. When I tried to sit up, he pushed me back down, covering my mouth with his hand, his voice a low, taunting growl. "Shhh, baby... let me taste you."

There were tears in my eyes--not from fear, but from the overwhelming, intoxicating thrill of being consumed by Andrew, of knowing Robert was likely watching all of this unfold on the cameras. Andrew's strength pinned me helpless, but I melted under his mouth, his tongue fucking me deep, his stubble scraping my inner thighs. I stopped fighting, my body surrendering to the taboo, the need that burned hotter than shame. I glanced at the clock--11:20 a.m.--Robert had left for work hours ago, leaving me at Andrew's mercy. My heart hammered with anticipation and guilt, but I spread my legs wider, offering myself up, desperate to see how far Andrew would push me.

Andrew's laugh was low and wicked as he slid up my body, his cock thick and heavy, already leaking against my thigh. He gripped my hair, guiding my mouth down onto him--filling me, stretching my lips with every inch. He fucked my face slow at first, savoring every gasp and gag, then faster, groaning as he hit the back of my throat. "Open wider," he demanded, and I obeyed, drool spilling down my chin as I took him deeper, my tongue swirling around his shaft. He thrust his hips, using me, making me choke on his cock until my eyes watered and my pussy clenched with filthy need.

When he pulled out, I was desperate for more. He flipped me over, yanking my ass high and spreading me wide. His mouth found my pussy again, tongue aggressive, but he didn't linger--he lined his cock up to my aching back entrance, pressing in with no mercy, no hesitation. I screamed into the sheets, pain and pleasure blurring as he pounded my ass, fucking me like he owned me. My body shook, stretched and filled, the forbidden thrill making me gush around him. About an hour passed in a messy, feverish blur--Andrew using every inch of me, making me cum over and over until I was raw and ruined.

But it didn't end there. Andrew dragged me downstairs, where a group of his friends waited, cocks already hard, eyes hungry. They took turns using me, filling every hole, making me beg and scream, their hands and mouths everywhere. It was filthy, degrading, and I loved every second--my body a plaything, my mind lost in surrender. This became our secret ritual, week after week, until one afternoon, Robert came home early, catching us in the act after watching on the cameras. He never let on that he knew the truth, pretending it was our first and only time. But the secret stayed alive. I'm still Robert's fucktoy, but I sneak Andrew's thick cock whenever I can, and sometimes he even joins me for my live shows, our forbidden games hotter than ever.