Well Spanked Wife Novels & Stories

Every word made her tighten around me. A small smile tugged at my lips. “My wife has a kink, I see.” Ian is going to love this side of her. So fucking much. I pulled out, my breath ragged. “Turn over.” She obeyed instantly, flipping onto her stomach, pulling her ass in the air. Her face pressed against the sheet, back arched perfectly for me. I spanked her ass hard. “My obedient little wife.” Fingers finding their way into her hole.

“I’m your dirty little married slut. Please destroy my pussy!” Silas slammed into me in one brutal thrust. I screamed. He was so thick, so deep, stretching me wider than Marcus ever could. The burn was intense and perfect. He didn’t ease me into it, he started fucking me hard immediately, pounding my pussy with deep, savage strokes while I faced my husband. “Fuuuuck, this married cunt is gripping me so tight,” Silas grunted, spanking my ass red as he railed me. “Your wife’s pussy is sucking my cock, Professor. She’s creaming all over me.”

I moaned. "That's right baby," he cooed. "Keep rubbing your slut button. I've never had a white girl who didn't love getting spanked. I'm going to spank you until you can bury my cock inside of you." Then he spoke to Richard again. "Your wife is a hot piece of ass. She's definitely going to cum before I'm balls deep. I bet you have a lot of fun with her."

I cupped her cheek in one hand and finally gave in to the urge to wrap her long hair around my other, tilting her head back for a kiss. “Are you going to behave?” I said some moments later. “No fucking way.” At that response, I threw her over my shoulder and carried her to the bed. She squealed in surprise, and then when I tossed her onto the bed and pulled her nightgown up to spank her, she squealed again. “You’re in a mood!” She squeaked-giggled when I spanked the other cheek. “I’m showing my wife that she needs to submit to her husband.”

He grabs my hips and pulls my ass up in the air and slams back into me from behind without warning. The angle is devastating. His cock hitting a different spot, deeper, and sharper. He spanks me, and the crack rings in the air. The sting blooms and races to my clit. "Yes!" I moan. "Again. Harder!" "You like being spanked in your home," he says, slapping my ass again. "While your husband is on a business trip?" "I love it," I cry out pathetically. "I love every second of it. Spank me again, Tyler."

Her world crumbled right before her eyes. She immediately imagined herself pulling that woman’s hair and strangling her neck. She wanted to confront her and ask her why she would do that to her husband. Ask her where did she find the audacity to steal a married man. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs and cry like no one was around. In reality, her self-worth was gone even when she remained composed. She wanted to put all the blame on the woman when her husband seemed to equally enjoy the ass that was on his lap. She could not even bring herself to defend Jack. He willingly kissed and did even more with another woman.

The angle was devastating—his cock slamming my cervix on every thrust, balls slapping my clit, the wet sound obscene in the quiet cellar. “Take it,” he growled, voice rough. “Take every inch of your father-in-law’s cock the night before you marry my son.” I sobbed, pushing back, greedy for more. He spanked me—hard, open-palmed cracks across both cheeks that made me clench around him so tight he cursed. Each spank louder, hotter, the sting blooming into fire that made my pussy gush down his shaft and thighs. He reached around, rubbed my clit in brutal circles, fingers slick with our mixed cum.

Swiping her hair from her forehead, I make her free and fucking her like I owned every bit of her, I watch my wife break as I rub her clit. Carrying London to the bathroom, I turned on the shower and let the water run down our body. London starts laughing and I look at her quizically. "Is this funny to you?" I ask spanking her pussy. "Ouch! Owwie! No daddy, it is not funny," she cries out softly, her eyes unfocused. "What is then?" I question curling upward in a friend. "The way you are looking at me, Daddy. Like this is the last time," she says.

“Taking my married cock like a good little barista.” I moaned, pushing back. “Your wife ever let you fuck her like this?” “No,” he admitted, voice wrecked. “Never.” “Good,” I gasped. “This pussy’s yours now.” He spanked me again, again, until my skin burned. “Gonna come,” I sobbed, clenching around him. “Do it,” he ordered. “Come all over my cock while the storm watches.” I did, screaming into a bar towel, pussy gushing down my thighs.

“You’re not alone. You never were. But if you keep pretending, you’ll drown before anyone can reach you.” Celina swallowed hard. For the first time in weeks, she felt something crack. “No, I did,” her father cut in, stepping forward. His voice was harder, older, filled with barely contained anger. “We heard from your cousin. Word’s spreading. This man you married—he has another wife? Another life?” Celina finally turned to face them, her eyes red but defiant. “I didn’t know.” “That’s not the point!” her father snapped, the sharp crack of his palm hitting the dining table reverberating through the room like a gunshot. The plates rattled, and so did Celina’s resolve.