Alanah, Queen of Hearts Chapter 1

As this is a sequel series to Tamed, I highly recommend you read the 13 chapters before of that series before this :)

I am making this one third person rather than first person, it’s easier to write and is far better to read! As well as this, expect there to be non-smut chapters scattered within the story!

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WARNING: This story will contain strong themes of cheating and cuckoldry.

The radiant sun was setting over the line of towering suburban palaces, shooting out a bright orange glow that complimented the purple sky to create a sprawling sight of beauty and elegance. Within a large, cream carpeted master bedroom ordained with expensive pieces of art and sculptures, Alanah Goodwin sat upon her makeup desk, softly tapping her cheek with her glossy fingernails. Her attention was turned away from adding the finishing touches to her makeup, and was distracted by the pretty view, she stared out of the window behind the rounded mirror to stare at the beautiful purple and orange sky. It gave her a sense of peace, and slightly relaxed her stress tainted body.

It entranced her, wiped her mind of thoughts. The sky, the amazing, beautiful sky. Her bright, glittering aquamarine eyes lingered on a cloud that slowly soared through the canvas. Small and grey, it twisted and turned like a flicking flame would with a breath of wind. She couldn’t help but see herself as the cloud. An ever-changing thing traversing through empty space, destined to go forward. Like the cloud, she could not go back; despite it being the one thing in the world she wished she could do.

Her trance like state was put to an abrupt end when a light rattle of knuckles hit one of the doors in the room, the one directly behind her. She shot up into a straight-backed posture, softly rubbing the dregs of her heavy black eye shadow she shaded onto her amazing eyes, making the unique and natural colour pop. From the door, a slip of light entered through the opening crack, and a moment after a head emerged, looking over at her with a look of concern. “Babe? You ready? You said you were going to be five minutes almost half an hour ago.”

“Be right there, babe.” Alanah answered. Looking at the buzz cut man of muscle and brawn through the mirror in front of her Alanah pursed her puffy, glossed lips and pulled the corners up into a smile. It was the same fake look of excitement she gave him the first time he set up these nights; a night which she only agreed to do to take her mind off wandering thoughts of what life would have been like if she wasn’t there in the rich part of town, all paid for by her husband’s inherited wealth.

“It’s just that he’s getting impatient. You know how these kinds of guys get when they know you’re here.”

“John…I’ll be down in a sec. I just need to make sure I’m all set, ‘kay?” She mused with a melodic voice, a voice which John could not help but grin after listening regardless of how stern she made it. He nodded and softly closed the door, and as he did, her fake smile died a death and was replaced with a forlorn one. Alanah huffed, and slipped herself off her comfortable cushioned chair and onto her bare feet. “Definitely not him who’s getting over excited… Seriously he always pretends he isn’t giddy as a fucking child on Christmas when one of his friends fucks me.” She sighed, and rubbed her forehead with her forearm, softly gliding her smooth skin across her head before she combed her fingers though her long, incredibly silky dark orange hair that hung loose down her body, tickling the back dimples of her tight back which led into the swell of her perfectly massive ass that was sculpted by gods to the upmost perfection.

She examined herself in the rounded mirror, stepping back so her hourglass figure fit into its confines. She wore a purple silk gown, smooth and silky to the touch. It was tied tightly around her thin waist, pushing her heavy breasts up into a cleavage that tantalisingly exposed the lacy edges of her purple lingerie that made her tits bulge and spill over the cups. She turned to a profile, slipping one of her long, creamy legs out of the slit of her long gown, softly tugging upward at the slit in the gown to expose more of her thick thigh that naturally rubbed against the other. She couldn’t help but smile. Thirty-One years of age and just as much of a stunner as she was in her twenties. Possibly even more so, given that she barely aged a day since that time five years prior. “I wonder if he’s changed at all…” She muttered to herself.

The last moments she spent in her room was spent making the last few adjustments of her uniform, debating if she should take the tarnished gold marital band from her ring finger; it was heavy on her hand as it always was, even though it fit perfectly on her slender finger. In the end she decided to keep it on after a short mental debate. She knew John liked it when she kept it on when she held another man in front of him. A good wife makes sure her husband gets the most out of his cuckolding fetish…

Her stomach turned the more she thought about it, another week, another boy’s night in. She wondered if this time his ‘friend’ was someone he knew, or some horny stranger that he found on the internet. Either way, she did not care. It would be over soon, and it would be out of her mind at least until her loving husband told her when another man will come over for a date. It wasn’t all bad, she rationalised as she exited her room, shutting the door with a soft click. At times she looked passed how they treated her like a doll instead of a human being, and focused on the slight glimmer of the tingles she used to feel all over the intimate parts of her well-crafted body. It was rare to feel it, but there were a few men over the last five years of this arrangement who almost measured up to her standard. Never enough for her though, as far as she was concerned, there was only one man who was.

As she softly stepped across the wide hallway upon the second floor of their majestic home, Alanah heard the muffled voices of banter and the hiss of beer bottles being removed of their caps. The voices were energetic, excitable, impatiently awaiting her grand entrance. Quietly she stepped, feeling the way her thighs rubbed together as she swayed her hips in a way that she deemed natural since puberty. Her hair swished and tickled her ass through the purple silk; something that was common for one with such long hair. Often, she thought of cutting it down, but there was something about how she could constantly feel her silky flames stroke her rear end which made her feel good.

The voices grew louder the closer she came, and the closer she came, the more her fake persona of Hotwife overtook her. Each step she took down the long, winding stairs the more her eyes grew smoky; with the black glittery makeup which shaded the lids of her eyes making her look hungrier for sex than she usually did.

Before she entered the wide opening into the living room, she listened intently to the voice of tonight’s date. A deep voice, a voice the old Alanah would have dropped to a deep squat in front of their crotch regardless of who it belonged to. She recognised it. A man John knew quite well; Desmond. She rolled her eyes, the guy who she always noticed staring at her chest and rear end whenever she was in the same room as him. She figured that giving her that kind of worshipping attention warranted her to turn on the sexy just a little bit for him. So, she fixed one last part of her attire before she slithered up against the doorway of the well-lit living room. She pressed her wide hip against the wall, cupping her hands together in front of her chest to make her biceps press her huge bust together. “What are you boys talking about? Sports?” She asked with a flirty twist to her voice.

Like an actor whom rehearsed the same scene endlessly, the red head averted the wide, enthusiastic gaze of her husband who sat on the single white leather chair, instead maintaining a flirty stare at the man on the sofa which stood behind a glass coffee table that housed half drunk beers and a full glass of white wine. The man turned his entire upper body around to see over the sofa to regard her, whistling a deep tone of awe for her. His dark skin contrasted the creamy white colouring of the room which Alanah designed when they moved in. White was her favourite, after all…

“Holy moly John…You get to sleep next to all this every night? Lucky bastard…” He slithered his tongue out to coat his lips. Alanah rose a thin brow at him, pouting her lips even more as she deliberately made sure to linger on the tight powder blue shirt he wore. He was like John, a gym freak; muscles upon muscles, a man she once would have let pin her to any sort of flat surface and dominate her for hours on end. Now, behind the sultry smile she had stuck to her pretty face was nothing more than an unimpressed shrug of the shoulders.

As John chucked with Desmond, Alanah glided across the room like a graceful swan. She walked in such a way that the gown she wore twisted and wrapped around her slim, yet incredibly thick body, allowing them both to admire how her hourglass figure looked being wrapped with expensive fabrics. With it she allowed one of her long legs to slip out from the gap in the middle of the gown, teasing him and her husband close beside him. Desmond leaned back and extended his arm out over the free space beside him, spreading his legs out in a display of himself to her. She casually neglected to follow the silent request, and went for a more direct approach for the pleasure of John. Planting her ass on his thigh with a hard drop she wrapped one leg over the other and let her gown expose them whilst she slid her fingers between each other around the back of his neck. He sighed, and confidently dragged his rough hand up her leg into the gown to rest on her smooth upper leg.

“As good as it gets…Damn John your wife is a killer!”

John made a noise in his throat, leaning back and allowing his average erection to expose itself through his sweat pants in the form of a bulge. “Don’t I know it…A woman like her is made for sharing.”

“Well…You won’t be sharing me any time soon hubby. I’m Des’ little Snowbunny tonight.” Alanah chuckled, flicking her silky hair back and sucking hard on her plump bottom lip. “Hell…If he fucks me like Jamal does…We’ll have another man to add to the special birthday present I have planned for you.”

“What kind of birthday present is this Bro? Got a train to run on this fine ass slut?” Desmond asked, stroking his hand up to the soft squish of her rounded ass.

“For sure man, don’t you think it’ll be hot for a peachy slut like her to be surrounded by black dudes?” Alanah rolled her head to the side, innocently pouting at John before quickly changing positions on Desmond’s lap. Like a machine she threw herself over him, legs on either side of his; as softly as she could she rolled her hips like a belly dancer, grinding on his crotch as he enjoyed the view of her heavy breasts peek out from the robe in front of his face. Her slim, toned belly wrapped and rolled back and forth with each slow thrust of her hips, and with it came the feel of his bulge sliding over her covered lips.

“Shit…I can’t deny that sounds like a party; can’t even begin to imagine what kind of shit she’ll do with cocks all around her.”

Alanah parted her lips to retort, but was cut off with a small “Shhh” from Desmond. She squinted at him whilst she kept rolling her crotch on his swelling bulge; she grinded her teeth with irritation, and just wanted the night to be over so she could catch an early night’s sleep.

“Sluts like you should work without talking. Get up and do a twirl for me would you?” He grasped her hand and thrusted him off of her. She allowed it, standing between his mansplaining legs after manging to gain her balance after being pushed. Slowly she slid her fingers up the silk gown, scraping her glossy fingernails over the smooth fabric. She saw how he liked it, how he breathed heavier when she tugged the gown just under the tie to expose a glint of her thong underneath. She pulled the knot out of the band and let the silk loosed around her, and pulled her arms back to let the soft clothing glide from her and drop to the white fur carpet. Desmond moaned as he trailed his hungry gaze up her long, delicious legs, up to her thick thighs, past the muscle definition on her thin stomach and the hourglass shape of her waist leading up into her massive tits. Breasts that heaved up and down with every one of her breaths. She flicked her hair back which swished and grazed over her arched back. Turning her back to him she pushed her fingers under the fold of her thick ass where her legs and butt met, pushing her bubbly ass up and down with soft ripples. Tossing her head over her shoulder she regarded him drool over it, reaching forward and giving it a firm squeeze.

“God it’s so soft…And fucking fat too…Just as nice as I thought it would be…”

“Been staring at it for far too long have we Des?” John muttered, already pulling his sweats down past his knees in anticipation for what would soon come.

“Fuck yeah…All those sun dresses and booty shorts at the summer barbeques…And don’t even get me started on the leggings and yoga pants.” Alanah rolled her eyes. They always mentioned the leggings. Her alluring chuckle from deep in her throat was cut off when Desmond kissed the cold skin of her plump booty. Licking and moaning he made out with her soft flesh. Immediately she went in with the moans, loud and submissive like they wanted. Tossing her head back to face the ceiling an overacted “OOOOOOHHHHH” that escaped her plump lips sent Desmond into a state of pleasure. He licked and kissed her ass, grasping handfuls and squeezing it before lapping his tongue and locking his lips around it, with each passing minute he moved closer and closer to the crevasse of her cheeks that swallowed the back of her thong. Meanwhile John had started to claw and roughly squeeze the shaft of his bulge in his underwear.

“Tongue her asshole… It’s fine, she won’t care.” He grunted after Desmond gave him a look from the corner of his eyes. Alanah took the hint, slithering her hand back to pull the thong out from her ass and to the side, allowing her big black man direct access to her forbidden hole. The elastic stretched a long distance with her pull, and Desmond immediately grasped each cheek. Parting them to expose her bleached asshole puckering for him. Alanah felt her body stiffen as he pressed his face in her ass; she admitted to herself that it felt good, the stimulation his tongue gave her as it swirled around her tightest hole was enough to get her to let out a half real moan. Ass play was more of her best friend’s forte; but she did not deny the dark urge to push a finger in there once in a while corrupted her horny mind as of late.

He kept up his tonguing for an impressive amount of time without coming up from breath, and soon his dry, huge hands went to her second hole. One hand pinched her thong with its fingers, pulling it away to expose her cunt. His other hand went to softly stroking it, rubbing and rolling the tips of three fingers around her lips, teasing her by pushing them into her ever so slightly before pulling out again. John had tugged his underwear down and pulled his cock into his hand, softly stroking his average sized length. Alanah took it as a direction to get on with it. She pulled herself away, twirling on the tip of her toes to face the black man, biting her bottom lip hard as she squatted down with ease, causing her thighs to flex and tense as she dragged her fingers forward up each of Desmond’s legs, ending at his belt as she unbuckled it with one hand. She heard the jerking in the corner, slowly, but wet from what she assumed was her husband’s spit. It didn’t matter, Desmond had started to shimmy down his trousers and pulled out his own in front of her face.

It was a decent size, a little over six inches from what Alanah guessed, two of her fingers matched his girth, but the leathery sheath of a foreskin was noticeably absent. She had been trained to dislike cut cocks; ever since that time she looked back on more than often, there was no going back for the goddess. Foreskin was sexy. She did not let her feelings be shown though, again she acted giddy, dragging her face over it and slapping it over her cheeks as she grasped it in her hand. “Fuck man she’s a dirty bitch. Put that cock in your mouth.”

She did so, moaning with a hoarse sound from her throat. She wrapped her plump lips around it and started to suck, using her signature jerking with the pinkie finger sticking up as she felt her mouth soil with pre cum. Desmond grinned and moaned, popping the buttons of his shirt off and pulling it away from him as she locked her alluring aquamarine eyes over his abs. Spreading her squatting legs apart, the flame haired beauty buried her face deeper into his cock, rolling her head from side to side as she bobbed back and forth. Alanah made sure to service his balls too, popping her lips from his head to suckle on his sack. In her mouth his balls throbbed and twitched to her wet tongues touch, already his balls started to press up against the underside of his penis in preparations for an orgasm.

Her saliva lathered Desmond’s black cock, coating it in glistening liquid which she spread over his unsucked inches with her jerking hand. The sounds of her moaning sent shivers up to the man’s brain, he thought she was enjoying it… As she sucked, she turned her eyes to the side, knowing that John was staring at her sucking another man’s cock, with the ring on her finger rubbing over his dark shaft. Of course, he was enthralled, she could see his heart thudding on his chiselled chest once her bright eyes fixed on him. She figured that he wanted more; and was looking forward to seeing his friend’s reaction to the tattoo that hid under her bra.

Pulling her lips away from between his legs she looked up at Desmond with those alluring eyes, smirking with a seductive confidence. He gazed at her, confused as to why she stopped, only to follow her eyes up when she pushed her upper body back to give him a good view of her bulging breasts. Alanah reached behind her toned back to unclip the purple lace bra. The small click made John whimper meekly. Alanah signed and shimmied her shoulders to let the straps that dug deep into her soft skin to fall down her arms. She felt her huge tits drop to their natural, perky position, slowly she teased the large half cups down, letting the symbol of a Spade filled with black ink stand out from her peachy white skin. Within the symbol were three letters

“BBC”

Desmond reached forward and tore the bra from her, thankfully unbroken, she yelped as he powerfully pulled her to the side of the couch closest to John. Without any form of praise or worship he pressed his lips on one of her soft nipples, sucking and biting it as he fondled the other with his massive hand. Alanah rolled her head back over the arm rest, watching as her husband stood and hungrily moved closer to get a better view.

“She got that tattoo after she first told me of her blacked fetish. Said it was best to express herself that way.”

“Mmmmffff” Desmond hummed, eventually letting his mouth unclasp from her tit to work her thong down her spread legs. Alanah closed her eyes, feeling the draft of the air-conditioned room on her dry cunt. John had always recited the same lie to every guy who cucked him. In truth, he pled her to wear the fake tattoo’s he got from the internet every time he set up a date without telling her. Each time she wanted to slap him for making her tarnish her body with ink, even if it was just something temporary.

“You love black cock do you whore?”

“Ohhhhh yessssss… I just love it!” She said, overegging her words to their excitement. It was all boring to her, no feeling behind her words, which she found funny; as once he put his dick inside her, she would again feel little to nothing.

“Yeah, Fuck my wife Des. Show her what a real man does to a hot bitch like her!”

He tried his best to fuck her, any other woman would have been enjoying every throb of his cock, every grunt he made, every grope of his strong hands on her huge tits. Alanah was not impressed, nor was she clamouring for him to pound her harder. She knew they would believe her submissive squeals and moans, every guy who cucked John did. Over the four long years she had been in this marriage, she had become a professional at making it sound, and feel, real.

Desmond pushed himself balls deep into her, strongly tossing her lower body upward to bend her thick figure so her knees pushed up on either side of her head. She grunted, feeling his hands glue to her thick ass when he readjusted his position to give her a mating press rough. John gave an almost manic look as he saw his wife contort in such a way; cumming and shooting his load on the leather sofa; his wild jacking make it fling and toss around, with some of his small ropes sticking to the side of Alanah’s thigh. The red-haired goddess stared up at Desmond, who thrusted his cock into her like a piston without any signs of stopping.

Her cuck of a husband did not cease either, instead he started to fondle his balls in one hand whilst he stroked himself back to an erection. Alanah felt Desmond’s black cock throb, with his balls slapping against her rippling booty. “Like that bitch? Do you love me?”

“Yes Des! I love black cock! I love youuuuuu!” She moaned louder, locking up her legs and rolling her eyes back in an impressive pantomime. Her fingers shuddered on his rock-hard chest, and allowing drool to leak from the corners of her puffy lips. Desmond grunted, and John moaned over the apparent sight of his woman cumming. Relaxing her body to seem like she had become limp and willing to receive his cum, Alanah stared up at the ceiling over his broad shoulder, thinking on what she was going to do after her work out tomorrow. Perhaps buy a mini dress, or some summer themed shorts or anything else that was tight and revealing enough to make hungry heads turn in public.

A sudden hot rush was felt inside her tummy, slowly rolling her head down she saw how Desmond’s orgasm showed on his face; his balls tensing around her soft ass. She breathed through her lips, glad that it was over at last. Still, she had to admit the ropes of cum that she felt stream into her was an impressive volume. Any normal girl would jump at the chance to milk more from him. “Fuck she’s such a tight whore.” He groaned gruffly, pulling out of her with a hard feeling of friction around his shaft. It was like her pussy moulded around his girth, squeezing and teasing the last of his seed from him. Alanah cooed when he pulled out, groping her breasts to give her sensitive parts her own form of pleasurable stimulation. She was not surprised that it was her own touch that made her feel pleasure these days. Ever since her not so little step-brother, no man could compete.

The rest of the date went in a blur. Desmond demanded that she clean his cock, which she did only after John eagerly squealed to usher her to do so. His cum tasted nice, salty, yet far too liquidly for her liking; she liked it sticky, and thick like goo for her to gargle and chew on before swallowing like a good cum slut she had been known as in her prime. Before long Desmond was gone, shoving his lecherous tongue down her throat before he gave her ass a hard spank when he left, telling her he was not nearly finished with her body after the night was done.

John was silent after the door shut, barely recognising her visible irritation that he did not clean up his fluids. Meaning she had to wipe his sticky stains from the leather sofa, the carpets and his discarded underwear which he left piled in the living room. By the time Alanah did what was expected of her she returned to the solace of their master bedroom, slipping onto her side of the bed with her uniform placed in the wash.

Tired, unsatisfied, and most importantly, hollow. That was how Alanah Goodwin felt as she laid there naked beside her snoring husband. She did not feel close to an orgasm whilst with Desmond. Only slightly damp from how he groped her, and drooled over the king of spades tattoo branded on her right breast. Her silky hair rested under her, rubbing against her back and ass when she moved herself. Turning to her bedside table she sighed as the bright red numbers on her clock read it to be far too long past two in the morning. If she had a photoshoot to go to, she would have been mentally frustrated as well as sexually.

Sliding off the bed she pulled her hair over her front, sandwiching her silky locks between her perky, bare breasts that bounced as she swayed her hips to the en suite bathroom on the other side of the room, far away from John and his wall shaking snores. As she stepped inside the white tiled bathroom, she immediately felt her nipples stiffen for the first time that night, the cold molested her perfection, goosebumps forming over her arms and ass.

As the chill swept around her, she regarded herself in the mirror, perfect lips at a settled frown, eyes dim with fatigue; physical, and emotional. When her slumbering husband first put forward the idea her being a Snowbunny, she thought she would have learned to love it; maybe, she thought at the time, that it would have ceased her cravings for the guy really wanted to be with. The one who she wished slept beside her every night instead of the snoring roid freak.

Alanah, with running water rushing through the silvery taps into the white marble basin, grumbled to herself “No need to linger on it. He’s probably moved on from you…Besides, you’ve been back in town for years and never bothered to tell him you’re back…You’re settled with John, no need to make everything complicated ‘Lana.”

She proceeded to scrub the tattoo from her body, wiping and scraping a damp towel at it which made her thickness jiggle and ripple with er visceral scrubs. The tattoo faded with the washing, leaving only black smears and wipe marks over the large canvas of her breast. “At least he didn’t make you get a permanent one…”

Stretching her body by bending her back with an impressive flexibility whilst throwing her arms up skyward, Alanah went to leave; may as well give sleep another go… Yet she stopped as she held the thick, rounded knob of the door in her small, delicate hand. Biting her lip, she turned her head to a small cabinet beside the toilet. Innocent in design, yet it called to her like a whisper from a seductive demon. Alanah felt the hold it had on her, how it made her let go of the door and step to it. Squatting down she opened it, cursing under her breath as she pushed her arm through the cleaning products and loose towels and sponges that were kept there, only to find the large rubber toy in the back, hidden with a wrapped white towel. It was heavy, and felt dense in her hands. Unwrapping it from the towel Alanah felt her heart lurch and her arousal immediately rocket. Her pussy swelled, and leaked delicious nectar as she stared wide eyed at the twelve-inch white dildo that flopped and swayed as she grasped its thick girth.

“Such an impressive monster you have Bro…” She moaned, stroking the plastic up her inner thigh, allowing her dripping juices to leak over its bulging pink head and trickle down the veiny length.

She couldn’t take it anymore. Slamming the suction cup down on the lid of the toilet with a loud pop she wasted no time mounting the seat, directing the footlong rubber penis to her cunt before she impaled herself onto it. The rush overtook her, making her thighs quiver and her feet to spasm over the tiled floor. It felt amazing. Not nearly as good as the real thing, but riding her toilet seat gave her far more love than the man who slept meters away from her; she rode it, shutting her eyes tight as she imagined the only guy who held such a godly cock between his legs. “Tim…” She moaned, rolling her hips over and over and over on the dildo. It split apart her insides, making the pain and the overwhelming pleasure that came with it to waft over her in endless waves. Each intense shiver taking her back to her time with her Step-Brother in their lavish apartment.

Her breaths were harsh, but muted to the best of her ability. Wouldn’t want to wake the sleeping cuck. Muted voices moaned the name of Alanah’s younger Step-brother, harder and faster every time the wet SHLICK of her pussy leaked hot secretions over the dick. How she wished the cock would fuck her back, there was little better feeling in the world than having such a massive thing attached to a man who not only dominated her just how she desired it, but a man who was always in absolute awe of her, no matter her outfit, no matter if she had a classy look, or trashy fuckslut clothes; Timothy always looked at her as if she was a deity. And that was the sweetest feeling of all.

She came over the dildo, tossing her head back that made her hair flare outwards and slap against her plump booty that had spread wide from how her legs were pulled to either side of the toilet seat. Her eyes rolled back, and she held the penis there, completely bottomed out on her. All twelve inches pressed against her tight tummy with the bulge of the head pressing outward on her flexed tummy. She lost sense of time during her little session in the bathroom; so much so that she realised she was riding it for almost an hour before she felt like her libido was satisfied. Orgasms came, made themselves known to her, and left soon after, much like a night with her Step-Brother…Many orgasms, and many times feeling like a literal goddess to be able to take something so big…

As she slipped back into the bed, feeling of satisfaction was deep in her pussy, she frowned and rubbed her eyes. Perhaps she missed her little bro a little too much…

To Be Continued…

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