My wife, Jennifer, has such a big cunt that you could drive a fire truck through it and she wouldn't feel a thing. Well, I’m exaggerating a bit, but it is quite huge — flaps the size of pancakes and a thumb-sized clit. It's a strange sight on such a slender woman. Kind of monstrous. At first I was disgusted, now I just avoid looking.
We were high school sweethearts and went to the prom together. Both virgins (at least she was) on our wedding night, I could barely feel her and I'm bigger than average. Eventually she dried up and went to the bathroom. Upon returning, she gave me a quick hand job. After one year, she barely wanted to have sex anymore. After two, I had to beg. Now I have given up trying. Even so, we’re pretty happy. Evenings spent on the couch, watching television. I love her and this allows me to be tolerant of her frigidness.
“Invite him over for dinner,” Jennifer suggested.
We had both just come home from work and were undressing. I was telling her about my buddy, Roger. A soft spoken guy who always seemed to be having problems with women. They were always leaving him after a couple of dates. It had just happened again.
“Hunh?” I said surprised by her suggestion. “Uh...yeah, why not.”
Jennifer tossed her soaked leotard into the hamper. She taught women’s aerobics at the local Curves. “Maybe we can cheer him up a bit.”
“I try to give him advice,” I continued, unbuttoning my shirt. “As much as I can. Build his confidence, you know.”
“Wonder why he has any problems with girls,” Jennifer said. “Good looking guy. Fit. Most girls would love to be with a guy like that.”
The comment made me glance down at my fleshy belly. I looked back at her. “I didn’t know you met him?”
“Remember, Sam? He came over to help you put in the washing machine. I even had a chance to chat with him a little. In the kitchen. Gave him a glass of water. He’d just come off the basketball court. Dressed in shorts and a tank top. Great body. No fat. Nice muscles...”
“Right,” I said, cutting her off, feeling jealous of her praise of Roger’s body. “I don’t know why he has problems with women. Maybe it’s money. He doesn’t have the stuff to be a manager, but at least instead of working the stockroom, he could be getting commissions as a salesman. Women hang around if money’s coming in.”
“Find out if he likes beef.”
“Roger?” I raised my eyebrows. “He eats anything.”
A week later I came home from work and the savory smells of lasagna and garlic bread filled the house. Usually sitting in front of the television in a robe, Jennifer was upstairs in the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror, putting on eyeliner. She rarely wore make-up.
“Fishnet stockings?” I said.
Encased in the black netting, her legs were lean and curvaceous.
“Yeah,” Jennifer said. She caressed her legs. “Thought I’d treat myself. Got them today after teaching class.”
I’ve rarely seen her dressed up in such sexy clothes, and I had to admit, it made me uncomfortable. Was she wearing these things because Roger was coming over?
“Not sure about Roger,” I told her. “If he’s coming or not. Had a problem at work today.”
She paused as she picked up the lipstick and frowned. “Don’t tell me....”
“I needed to reprimand a few of the guys. He was one of them. Sometimes they just waste time bullshitting and....”
She stood up. Already taller than me, her black high heels added two more inches to her height. “Sometimes you overdo it,” she said, slipping a black mini-dress over her head. “Zip please.”
“No panties, Jen?”
She shook her head. “Who’s going to know?”
“I just believe in running a tight ship,” I continued. “The boys need to know who’s boss.” Jen’s dress felt soft and sleek beneath my finger tips as I closed up the back. I moved her red hair aside to kiss her bare freckled shoulder. The sweet smell of an unfamiliar perfume drifted up. She slipped away from the kiss and squatted on the toilet. Her pee splashed loudly.
“I think you let them know a little too often,” Jen said.
A gay porno magazine lay on the counter.
“What’s this?” I said picking it up.
“Oh nothing. The plumber forgot it the other day. Hot photos! I couldn’t help checking them out.”
“Jen!!” I thumbed through the slick pages and my heart skipped a beat. “Couldn’t be real,” I mumbled. “Photoshopped for sure.” I paused at one of the dark skinned guys. Standing beside a waist high fence, he had laid his cock on the top of the railing like a thick rubber tube. Wetness oozed obscenely from the foreskin. He resembled Roger, except that Roger was bald and leaner. I quickly closed the magazine.
“Photoshopped?” Jennifer asked. “You think so?”
“Of course, Jen.” The thought that my wife had blithely checked out all these huge fake dicks horrified me.
“He is coming, by the way,” Jen said as she wiped herself. She stretched out her pussy lips and lay them on the seat.
I hated when she did that and looked away. “What? Who?”
“Roger. He called just before you got home to ask what he could pick up. I told him white wine.” She stood up and pulled down her dress. “Okay with you?”
I nodded, but I was annoyed.
The door bell rang around 8. Hurrying to the door, Jen tripped and one of her heels skittered off. She picked it up and opened the door.
“Been a long time, Jennifer.” I heard Roger’s voice. He said something else but it was muffled. His tone was warm and smooth.
“Thank you,” Jennifer said, then surprised me by kissing him on the lips. She pulled him into the living room by his hand.
“Smells delicious!” Roger exclaimed. “Let me guess. Lasagna?” His huge body filled up the entryway. Instead of the dirty blue overalls I usually saw him wearing at work, he was dressed neatly in baggy, khaki colored slacks and a plaid shirt. He held a brown bag.
“Hey, Roger,” I said, moving forward towards him.
“He’s not your boss tonight, right dear.” Jennifer turned to me and flashed her eyes.
“No...” I said smiling. “Right...I’m not your boss tonight.”
“Your wife’s looking mighty sexy, Baw...I mean Sam.” He slowly looked her up and down.
Jennifer grinned and struck a pose, throwing out her hip.
Through Roger’s ogling gaze, I now saw my wife for the first time that evening. A sleek sexy woman, her body was visible through the diaphanous silk of the dress: long erect nipples, the shadow of the crack between her ass cheeks, her thighs peeking out above lacy stocking tops.
I almost ordered her to change into something else.
“Why thank you, Roger,” she said.
“What’s that in your hand?” Roger pointed.
“My Shoe. Fell off when I was running to answer the door.” She sat down on the footstool and tried to put it back on. She turned to me. “Dear could you help?”
I hesitated, stunned by the disturbing perspective of how hot my wife looked through Roger’s eyes.
“Let me,” Roger said, quickly dropping to one knee.
Jennifer lifted and pointed her foot. She spread her legs just wide enough so that her pussy was visible. Roger, his eyes focused on her crotch, deftly slipped the shoe on and carefully secured the slender silver buckle.
A groan inadvertently burst from my lips.
Both of them looked up at me, then Jennifer rose and walked into the kitchen, carrying the brown bag Roger had brought. Her heels clicked on the wood floor.
Roger and I sat down facing each other on the two couches and chatted about what had happened at work earlier.
Jennifer returned carrying a tray with the opened bottle of wine, three glasses, and a plate of cheddar cheese slices and wheat wafers.
“Bully!” Jennifer said, nodding towards me. “Don’t mind him. I’m sure you guys didn’t do anything too wrong.”
Roger smiled. “It’s alright. We’re over it.”
“Yes, its all straightened out, Jennifer,” I said sharply. I got up and turned on the entertainment system. The internet radio station started playing a piece by Sting.
“Pretty!” I said and sat down next to Jennifer. She rose and moved next to Roger. Her eye lashes fluttered. She poured some wine in a glass and handed it to Roger, then fed him a wafer with an orange slice of cheese on it. Chewing, he took a sip of wine and returned my wife’s gaze. She had positioned herself so close to him that she was almost sitting in his lap. Facing them, I felt like a third wheel — very uncomfortable.
“So...well...um...” I stammered, pouring myself a glass of wine.
“Like my nail polish?” Jennifer said in a girly voice, plopping her hand on Roger’s thigh, very near his crotch. He glanced at her then at me then back at her.
“Beautiful!” he said, lifting her hand and looking more closely at the nails. “Such long attractive fingers.”
“Yes, my wife has...”
“OJ. That’s what it’s called. To go with my hair. Haven’t done my nails for months. I adore it.” She smiled. “You’re so sweet.”
She kissed him for just a moment too long.
“Jennifer!” I almost shrieked.
Her eyes flashed. “What?” She said with an innocent but smoldering expression.
“Dinner?” I asked. “Is dinner ready?”
“Any time we want.” She glanced towards the kitchen. “Dear, could you do me a favor and take the garlic bread out of the oven and turn it off.”
“Why don’t you...?”
“Because I’m tending to our guest,” she said, putting another wafer between Roger’s lips. “Don’t you see?”
“I don’t know how to...” I shrugged.
She rolled her eyes. “It’s easy. Just turn the knob to the left. Open the door. Take out the bread. Put it on the counter. Oh, and don’t forget a mitt. It’s hot.” She looked at Roger. “Ha, he can manage a whole company but can’t turn off the oven.” Roger chuckled.
I went to the kitchen and paced the floor. Her irreverent tone was getting to me. She had barely touched her wine so that wasn’t an excuse. It was like she was on fire, too hot to handle. She had never behaved like this before, so insubordinate and rude. Disgusting visions of she and Roger making out flitted through my mind. I was afraid to go back in there.
After a couple of minutes, I barged back into the room. They were sitting and talking as I had left them. I sighed inwardly.
“Sam, your wife’s great,” Roger said, glancing at her. “Two years of friendship and this is the first you invite me over?”
“Well I just didn’t think you...”
“I told him to say that, by the way,” Jennifer interjected.
Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” came on the radio.
“I love this song,“ Jennifer screamed, jumping up and starting to dance.
I don’t know why I didn’t realize she could dance so well. After all, she was an aerobics teacher. But now she was moving like a slinky nasty stripper. This was new to me. Arms overhead, she bumped her hips back and forth like a metronome. The muscles in her slender legs throbbed to the beat. At one moment she shimmied her hips to the ground, squatted, and thrust her pelvis back and forth with her legs spread wide open. It was unbearable to watch. I shifted uncomfortably.
Instead of showing embarrassment (as I was hoping), Roger, his head bobbing to the beat and his face frozen in a grin, watched openly, his brown eyes fixed on her pussy. But the scariest thing was the fantastic bulge pushing out the inside leg of his baggy pants. It looked as if a badger or gopher had curled up inside them. Luckily Jennifer didn’t notice. Having pivoted away, she was now dancing with her back to him, rotating her ass so wildly that her dress lifted above the hem of her stockings revealing the bottom curve of her ass and her pussy lips flapping like flags. She yanked the dress down.
I looked back at Roger. Not possible! The bulge had grown even bigger.
I jumped up and switched the radio to a quieter music station.
“Our guest...I mean Roger must be hungry,” I almost shouted.
Frowning at me, Jennifer abruptly stopped dancing. “Oh you’re right, Dear.” She turned to Roger. “Roger would you...” Her eyes widened. I wanted to jump up and block her view. Her face grew rosy as she stared at Roger. She started biting her lower lip. (She once told me that this was one of her habits when she got turned on.) Beaming confidently back at her, Roger spread his legs wider. What was he doing that for? It was as if he wanted her to see it. She blinked.
“I know this is off topic and a little strange,” she began excitedly, “but I’m curious. Do you mind a personal question?”
He shook his head.
“The other day, the plumber forgot a porno magazine, and...”
“Dear!” I cried aghast. “Jen!”
Without removing her eyes from Roger’s thigh, she flicked her hand disdainfully at me. “Its alright, isn’t it, Roger? This doesn’t embarrass you, does it?”
“Not at all,” he moved the bulge on top of his thigh.
A terrible sound then exited my wife’s lips, an a****l-like guttural sigh that froze my bl**d. She widened her stance and a thin bead of moisture descended between her legs on a viscous thread like a translucent spider.
“My husband claimed that the penises...the dicks of the men in that magazine were photoshopped to look bigger. Do you think they photoshopped them?”
“Hmm! I’m not sure,” Roger said. “I’ve never worked for one of those magazines. But I don’t trust...”
“Well more to the point then. Men aren’t that big, are they? Their dicks, I mean. It’s hard to believe. I mean, I’ve never seen a penis that big before. I didn’t even think they could be that big. My father left when I was a k** and...well I only had my mother and a younger s****r. I was a virgin when I married my husband. Never saw a cock other than his...”
“How big do you mean?”
She held her hands about nine inches apart in front of her.
He threw his head back and guffawed. “No of course there are many men as big as that. Even bigger.”
“Bigger?” Her face lit up. “My husband has always boasted that he’s bigger than average. Right Dear?”
“Jennifer could we eat?” I blushed, looking at Roger. Roger was regarding me with an odd smirk. I hated the direction this conversation was going and tried my best to steer us on to dinner. My stomach growled. “I’m hungry. You, Roger?”
“Well...I’m kind of interested in what your wife is getting at.”
I stood up, grabbed Jennifer by the shoulder, and tried to steer her towards the kitchen. “Jennifer could you please not...”
She shrugged my hand away.
“Wait!” she snapped.
My lips trembled as if I had been slapped. Jennifer had never turned on me before. She was suddenly very powerful, uncontrollable. I felt scared of what was coming.
“I’m trying to find out something,” she snarled at me. She turned her gaze once more on Roger. “Go ahead, Roger,” she said in a buttery tone.
“Well for some men, having a huge dick is a liability,” Roger explained. “Some women are scared of it. They think it will cause them pain. So...they up and leave when they both start becoming sexual. But to answer your question, there are many men with cocks over 12 inches.”
Jennifer started laughing hysterically and shook her head. “I don’t believe it. That’s twice as big as him.” She nodded her head towards me with contempt.
Roger nodded and smiled.
Mesmerized by the bulge, she stepped towards it, unable to take her eyes off.
Thinking she was headed to sit down on the couch, I said: “Come around here, Jennifer, so you don’t bother...There’s no room for you to pass.”
She ignored me and began stepping across Roger’s long legs.
“You’re leaking,” Roger said, reaching forward and snatching the strand of goo hanging between her legs on his fingertips.
Pausing while straddling him, she watched him open mouthed. He tongued the slimy thread into his mouth like a piece of spaghetti. “I’m a freak for big, long, pussy lips.”
“Wow that really turned me on, Roger.” She trembled. “I’m like jelly inside.”
This was getting way too much for me.
She sat down beside Roger, her dress hiked above her stocking tops. “You talk as if you had experience,” she said, dr****g her quivering fingertips on the mound. It twitched a couple of times, startling her and me.
“Mm!” She purred. “This you?”
Roger nodded, leaned back, and put his hands behind his head. A brazen sexual confidence shone in his eyes.
“Don’t Jen! Please don’t!”
She walked her fingers up Roger’s pants leg. “One, two, three,...” She counted, circling her lips with her wet tongue. Upon reaching thirteen, she stretched her body up and kissed him for a long time.
When we were both in high school, I remembered her moaning in the back seat of my Civic. I was rubbing her pussy through soaked panties. Now her moans were louder and unreserved.
“Jennifer, you’re embarrassing me,” I pleaded. “Please...”
“Shut up!” she snarled.
So why didn’t I bolt and leave? I have asked myself this question over and over. Knowing what I do now, I should have never stood for it. At least I could have saved my honor and left the room. But I guess I felt riveted to this scene like someone watching a horror film or accident. When my cock got hard, that sealed my fate and troubled me even more.
“I have to see,” she squealed eagerly.
Roger was no longer glancing at me for assurance. Jennifer’s disrespectful treatment of me had made his inquiry superfluous. He saw that she wanted him and he clearly wanted her. He started opening the first button.
“No, let me,” she said.
Gently she pushed him to the side so that he was now reclining on his back. Chewing on her lower lip, her fingers shaking, her eyes wide, her tongue hanging out of her mouth, she bounced like an infant opening a christmas present as she undid each button. “Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!”
A more bulbous gob of moisture now hung from her bared pussy lips. When it plopped onto the glistening wet spot on the couch, another gushed out to replace it. Dribbling like a faucet, she was completely oblivious to me or — should I say — she was very aware of me but couldn’t care less. Maybe even being more demonstrative of her desire because I was witnessing it. This was torture.
As if struggling to pull a slippery giant eel out of a sack, she reached in Roger’s fly with both hands. I couldn’t believe it. All I can say is the photos of what I thought were fake giant cocks in the magazine were nothing compared to the real thing. Truly a mortifying sight that forever obliterated my ego and confidence. Once released, this monster grew and stiffened even more. Then as if reading my thoughts, my wife sneered: “My god, I didn’t realize how puny you are.”
A shade darker than Roger, his cock had a thick vein running its entire length from his balls to the floppy flesh hanging in folds from the tip. A thick strand of drool extended from the inside of his pants to the foreskin. Jennifer laughed like a mad woman and immediately lapped up this wet string like a thirsty dog. Rubbing his cock against her own face, she gurgled and snorted. “Oh God it smells so good,” she kept repeating. “So big. So soft. So slippery. So delicious. Oh! Oh! Oh!”
She first gobbled up the foreskin, then she thrust her tongue deep in the pee hole as if trying to lick out a treat deep inside the shaft. Her uncontrollable sighs ripped through my heart like claws. Giggling with lust, she slapped his cock back and forth across her face till strands of precum covered her nose, eyes and mouth. One of his balls filled her hand like a tennis ball as she rubbed it against her cheek and chewed on it. Meanwhile, she was grinding her clit hard against the couch.
Watching my wife get so turned on by another man’s prick completely humiliated me. I tried to will my erection away. Unable to take it any more, I got up to leave.
“SIT DOWN!” she ordered. “Watch a real man satisfy your wife.”
Her words hit home and brought tears to my eyes. Helplessly, I collapsed on the couch with a groan.
“Fuck me, Roger!” she screamed, throwing herself on her back, her legs flung wide open. “FUCK ME! Please please please fuck me!”
“Goddam hottest slut I’ve ever seen,” he said as he stood up. His cock stabbed straight out in front of him. “So Sam, this is the frigid wife you’ve always complained about to the guys?”
Jennifer glared at me.
It felt like they were both ganging up on me.
Slowly leaning towards her, Roger clearly enjoyed making her wait. She bucked and writhed as he moved closer.
“Take me, Roger,” she shrieked pulling on her labia so her pussy gaped wide open. “Fuck this little slut. Fuck her till she’s bl**dy. Wreck me, Roger. Wreck me. Mmm! I want that gorgeous meat. Fill me till I burst open.”
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing and hearing. This wasn’t the woman I was married to, my Jennifer.
Roger teased her, whacking her pussy lips and flicking her erect clit back and forth with the pink glistening head of his cock. I barely recognized the quiet guy at work from the sexually confident stud in front of me.
“Stick it in!” she growled, using a voice I’ve never heard.
He pushed the head of his cock deeper and deeper between her pussy lips. She looked like a frail leaf impaled on a rod. So a****l-like, her crescendoing sounds seemed ridiculous and fake. As big as she was, I could see that she was being torn open and knew that she would never feel me now. He was owning my wife and I had to watch.
Upon reaching her depth, he slowly began pummeling her. In and out. In and out. Soon he was ramming her like a piston, his speed shocking, the muscles of his ass clenching and releasing, his balls slapping against her ass. Each gyration elicited more screams and cries from my wife. “Oh god,” she cried. “I never knew. I...so wonderful to be...f-ugh! f-ugh! f-ugh!...fucked by such a big cock. How...” She screamed and gritted her teeth while looking at me with fiery eyes. Then they rolled back in her head and she gasped: “Ooooo!”
What a nightmare! Their passion was so hot that I could clearly smell something burning.
He sucked her face and her erect nipples as she bucked and met each of his powerful thrusts. She was utterly dominated by his hugeness.
I curled up on the couch in a fetal position, whimpering with each of his rapid jack hammer thrusts. The smell of leather filled my nose. I was unable to look away from the two of them. My cock was uncomfortably stiff, and my heart and ego were broken.
The ultimate humiliation was seeing Roger’s entire cock almost fully submerged in her and hearing her shrieking ecstatically “I’m cumming! Cummmmming!” Squirming beneath his thrusts, she squealed for what seemed like five minutes.
I covered my ears with my hands.
He pulled out his cock covered in her creamy white juices. The first blast filled her eye. “Stop Stop Stop,” I said to myself. He continued splattering her. Soon her face was completely covered.
She licked it off her lips and said: “Sweet!” Then turned to me. “Not bitter like yours.” She came over to me as I cowered on the couch. “Taste.” She swabbed some off her cheek and daubed it on my lips with her pointer finger.
I tried to protest.
“Shut up! I thought you were hungry, you fucking whimp,” she said and f***ed some into my mouth.
I gagged with disgust.
“Now I know what you really are,” she sneered, looking me up and down then focusing on my crotch. “And I’ll never let you forget.”
She was completely changed. I had no idea how. The taste and sight of his huge cock had emboldened her. I was completely scared of her now. She returned to Roger and thoroughly licked his cock clean.
“Well I guess I’ll have to find another job,” Roger whispered.
“Yes, you will,” I thought.
“Don’t you worry, Roger,” Jennifer said. “The whimp won’t do a thing to you. Will you, whimp? Because, you see, I know something that he doesn’t want anyone to know, especially the company owners. Don’t I, whimp?”
I recalled the dark day that I confessed and cried in her arms about the money I had taken and the books I had arranged to cover it. The owners ended up firing another manager for what I did. No one had ever found out.
“You wouldn’t,” I said.
God, she was so mean to me now. How could she?
“In fact, the whimp is going to make you a salesman and give you a raise. Aren’t you, whimp? Say yes.”
“Yes,” I mumbled. The pancake batter stench of Roger’s cum filled my nose.
“What’s that smell?” Jennifer sniffed the air. “The bread!” She glared at me. “I thought I told you to turn off the oven.”
Roger got up to leave around midnight. He and Jennifer had cum two more times and eaten most of the lasagna. I had lost my appetite a long time ago after she had fed me his cum.
They made out in the open doorway for several minutes while he fingered her still drenched pussy.
“What if the neighbors see?” I worried.
“Tomorrow?” she asked Roger.
“You’ll be sore.”
“Can barely walk now. Feels so good though. Better than how it's been.”
She closed the front door and walked towards me. Her black dress was splattered with Roger’s dried and wet cum. She looked sexier and more beautiful than I had ever seen. She began laughing at me uncontrollably. Terrified of her, I retreated into the corner of the couch, but there was nowhere left to go.
Posted by gag9gag 2 years ago Views: