For you serious sex junkies who get off on watching or sharing your wife with another skilled man, those three little letters, or in some cases only two, are the equivalent of winning the sexual lottery.
For me, March 16th, 2006 was my lottery day.
My wife and Robert had been on sort of a hiatus during the holidays and the first of the year for various scheduling reasons. However, we all did keep in contact through
e-mails and a few coffee dates here and there; nothing remotely like what happened the first time at the coffee house.
My wife liked Robert and had both a mental and physical attraction to him. After the coffee house incident I talked to my wife about her different physical behaviors, which she chalked it up to “something new,” and still ensured me I pleasured her just the same if not more.
I didn’t really buy it, and she didn’t truly help to settle my angst. And, I couldn’t get the fantasy and raw sexual feelings of her extramarital fucking out of my head.
We talked about it for days leading up to her date. It was established from the beginning she wanted to have sex alone, at first, without me. Her reasoning was she wanted to feel comfortable being with whomever we chose. I guess there was some truth there. My wife had rough feelings about social and moral issues stepping “outside.”
After looking back I think also she wanted to be alone to enjoy herself. She didn’t want to justify liking it (more than me), which would hurt my feelings, cause distress, and then have to explain it. My insecurities wanted her to like it of course, but not more than with me.
Added in that, Roberts cock was larger than mine. A blow to any mans ego, especially when it’s the larger cock spreading your wife’s legs.
It was complex. But, we’re a real couple who didn’t communicate very well in the beginning, which still isn’t perfect to this day.
The afternoon leading up to her fucking I spent dealing with mental emotions. My wife was nervous too, but I know it was nothing like mine.
I remember her getting ready, doing her hair and makeup, ensuring all was perfect. It was.
She selected a wonderful outfit, casual but sexy. A simple red white and black blouse, stripped, with an ample view into her cannons. Dangling just about her cups was a three stoned 1 karat necklace that shined in the light.
A black skirt was added, just above the knee, with black nylons and well polished black boots. Robert loved nylons and her boots.
She looked goddess like. Even still does as she gets ready for her dates to this day.
Her plan was to meet him at a motel in town. Robert sent us an e-mail confirming the appointment, and asked if I wanted a memento of the afternoon.
I agreed, not sure what he had in mind. Even then, without consciously knowing I was playing the cuckold role.
She climbed into the car and kissed me good bye. I recall her being nervous, but I think it was more anticipation than pure nervousness. Just in my opinion.
And like that, our fantasy was set to become full circle. Within minutes or hours, she would share her married pussy with a man whom she’s been flirting with and previously felt up by.
There was no turning back. Or maybe there could be, if I just picked up the phone and called her. Told her I didn’t want to do it anymore, or I couldn’t go through with it. I pushed those feelings aside, dropped my pants and sat down in the front of the computer and enjoyed the high.
Shortly thereafter the phone rang. It was my wife. She had made the trip and was parked out front of the motel. She told me Robert’s car was there and she was set to go inside. I remembered her voice sounding calm. She asked me if I was ok.
I told her yes, and lathered up the horny talk and about me seeing her soon after. I think it’s funny how the power of the hardon can overcome and subdue the harshest and scariest of feelings.
After the I love yous, that dial tone indicated no turning back now.
Over the next couple of hours I jacked my dick thinking about my wife. That sounds very similar to what I do now.
I watched the clock and it crept. My thoughts ran wild with the numerous perversions. His cock size. How he fucked her? When would she be finished?
Then darker ones appeared. What if she truly does like fucking him better? What if they’re fucking has turned intimate? What if..?
Soon it was all over. The phone rang and it was my wife. She had a good time and she looked forward to seeing me.
I asked a variety of questions – where did he cum? Did he wear a rubber? Did she like it? I interrogated her with sex filled and lustful inquires.
Over time the verbatim of the replies has faded. However, some will be revealed through the remainder.
She did enjoy it. Roberts cock was large and it felt good inside her, though her responses about his size were familiar and coy, just as before.
He didn’t wear a condom, and that was a decision she later changed. Before hand she insisted, then as the days became closer she became undecided. And tonight she decided against it.
Inside I knew he wouldn’t. My wife dislikes them.
She was close to home and we decided to hang up. She would tell me about her evening in person. My cock hurt. I was beating it for awhile.
Headlights filled the dark room which I was playing with myself in. She was home. It would be seconds before I would see firsthand my shared wife.
She entered the foyer and took off her jacket.
Seconds later she appeared in the doorway of the room, light from the computer telling the story of her evening.
I could see she was flush; her hair was a bit messy, especially around the crown. I think she spent lots of time on her back.
She was braless, her blouse buttoned half way up. Her nylons she left with, gone now.
She invited me into or bedroom as we walked into the dark room turning on a small night light next to our California queen. I began to undress her. I recall not speaking very much initially.
Opening her shirt I could see crusty cum splatters on her 36D’s. That’s when she told me he fucked her, pulled out, cumming on her pussy hair, stomach and boobs. I laid her back on bed after slipping her skirt off and began licking her pussy. Her light brown hair was matted down just above her opening. It was prickly and stiff, with strands of her hair breaking free as I nestled close and lubricated her. I could taste my wife’s scent, cock and of course, salty and slightly bitter dried cum.
I fucked her as she told me about her evening. I loved hearing about it. The details of how he touched her. How his cock felt, and the way he fucked her. I loved hearing about her enjoying herself.
Is there much different between verbally and physically seeing her enjoyment? I guess to me there was.
I finished inside her within a few minutes.
After the sex and moment subsided those insecure feelings approached again. I wanted to see how she fucked Robert.
That night we had sex after her date with him I couldn’t help but notice she lacked the same interest and passion she had shown during the coffee house incident.
Our time together that night we shared intimacy and closeness, as it should be, but it lacked the sexual prowess I was beginning to see my wife had become capable of; leaving me to wonder, still.