I know from what I've read on this Website, as well as many other s**ttered throughout the Internet, that thousands of men have fantasies of being cuckolded by their wives. Maybe you'll change your minds about ever trying to make that fantasy come true after you've read what happened to me.
Like you, I dreamed of being a cuckold. When my wife and I were having sex, I constantly fantasized about it being another man lying atop her, his hardon ramming in and out of her pussy. Of course, I was always "f***ed" to watch the lovemaking, and then further "f***ed" to perform cleanup duty afterwards. My favorite part was where she pushed my head down to her lover's slimy cock, and then when I had finished with him, sat on my mouth and fed me mouthful after mouthful of their delicious mixed juices.
It was always a surefire way for me to get my rocks off. Visions of another man's cock in my mouth, followed by a great big serving of cream pie, was virtually the only type of sexual fantasy I had, and as could be predicted, it finally developed into an obsession. Little did I know that my wife had begun to share that fixation with me, although she never said anything about it to me, just as I never said anything to her.
What finally happened to break that barrier of silence between us was pretty trivial, as most beginnings are. It happened almost one year ago today, in fact, and I'll never forget it. Quite the opposite, I think of it almost every waking moment, wondering how different things would be today if I hadn't made that one mistake.
My mistake was simple enough, and I'm sure many other men have made it also, especially if they use their computers to surf the Internet in search of more and more fodder for their fantasies. That's exactly what I was doing when I found a Website that proclaimed itself "The Last Word in Cuckolding," promising thousands of stories, photos, and videos would be available to me if I only became a member.
The preview tour the site offered was much better done than usual, and believe me, I'd seen them all. I suppose it was that more than anything else that finally persuaded me to enter my credit card number, and in less than a minute I had been granted admission.
The place certainly lived up to its billing, and in my estimation it was the best I'd ever seen. Story after story, all well written, told of men being cuckolded. Some of them had introduced their wives to the idea, while others had found out their wives had taken lovers, and then became intrigued with the idea of hiding in the closet to watch. Some had been led to accept the idea of being a cuckold, with the leading done by their wife.
It was the last story line that was my favorite, since it closely paralleled my fantasy in which Sandie (my wife, Sandra) told me she was no longer satisfied with my little penis, and either I could consent to her having other men in our bed, or she would leave me. Of course, I always "reluctantly" went along with her, and then, again "reluctantly," was made to do my part after the lovers had reached their orgasms.
The photos and videos were great, too. I especially loved the ones that showed the woman lying on the bed, with cum beginning to run out of her freshly-fucked pussy. She was holding her husband's head with both hands, forcing it down on the other man's still-erect cock, which was covered with its own coating of slimy goo.
Although I had the good sense to not print any of the photos, I just couldn't resist doing so with some of the really hot stories. I was sure they'd be easy to hide in the papers on my desk, especially since Sandie never used it for her own work. I figured that by printing the stories, they'd be available when I needed them, especially at those times when my wife was using our shared computer.
I'm sure you can already predict what happened, and you're right. Sandie was looking for our stapler, of all the silly things, when she decided it just had to be in one of my desk drawers, since she'd looked every other place she could think of. Of course, when she opened my special drawer, my secret was out. The top story just happened to be titled, "Sandie Takes a Lover," and, just as that name had caught my attention, so it did hers. She read the first few paragraphs, and then the whole story, and the rest is history.
I'm sure 99% of the wives out there would have reacted in one of these two ways: Some would have been ashamed to learn that their husbands had such horrible fantasies, and done their best to ignore the situation. Others would have reacted with anger, and confronted their husbands. Sandie is not like that, though. Her reaction was to look through the drawer for similar stories, and then read them from start to finish.
She told me that's just what she did, and with each new story, she began to become more excited. She understood then that we both had been sharing essentially the same fantasy, but were too timid to talk about it. She resolved to put an end to that situation, and in her straightforward manner, that's what she did.
When I came home from work that evening, she called a greeting to me from the living room, and asked me to join her. That was unusual, to say the least, since it was her usual practice to be in the kitchen, preparing dinner.
As I entered the room, I saw her sitting on the couch, and a pile of papers on the coffee table in front of her. She patted the cushion next to her, indicating she wanted me to sit there, and so I did. I idly glanced at the papers, and that's when my heart almost stopped. The top page bore the title, in large letters, "Sandie Takes a Lover."
I'm sure my face must have been beet red then, as I blushed in shame. I felt rather like a small boy who has been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, or maybe more aptly, in his undershorts. I was sure she'd be angry with me for harboring such dirty thoughts, especially since they involved her having sex with other men, and then taking the dominant role by forcing me to perform cleanup duties.
She began simply enough by saying, "I found these stories in your desk today when I was looking for the stapler. Some of them are really good. I assume you liked them also, or you wouldn't have printed them. Is that top one your favorite?"
She paused then and looked directly at me, waiting for an answer. My brain was racing as I tried to devise an answer that would show my interest was entirely innocent. Believe it or not, I even considered telling her I was doing a research project as part of my job. However, since my work is in sales for a construction company, I doubted that'd be at all believable.
Finally I just decided to accept my medicine, and meekly replied, "Yes."
She smiled then, partly at my embarrassment, but more in satisfaction that I'd decided to answer honestly. Knowing it was up to her to continue the conversation, she said, "Seeing my name in the title caught my attention, of course. Then when I read what the woman was doing, and making her husband do, it got even more interesting. What's your favorite part of the story?"
I simply couldn't come to terms with her question, or indeed this whole conversation. I'd been hiding my fantasy, and the stories, for so long that it was difficult for me to face the issue head on. After a pause, I understood that she wasn't in the least angry with me, and even seemed to be pleased with what I'd done.
I still couldn't commit myself, though, and tried to equivocate by answering, "I don't know. I guess the whole thing was interesting."
She wouldn't let me off that easily, and went on in her usual conversational tone of voice, saying, "My favorite is when she f***es her husband to clean her lover's cock. I think it'd be really exciting to see men doing that. Of course, if it were us in that story, I'd like the part where you had your cream pie afterwards. That would probably feel really good, don't you think?"
Again, I was at a loss for words. Finally I replied, "Yes. I think she'd like it."
She wouldn't let me off the hook that easily, and continued, "I didn't ask about some other woman and man. I was wondering what would be our favorite part, if we did that. It's exciting when I think about watching you suck another man's cock, and then feeling you eat his cum out of my pussy. Is that the part that gets you hot, too?"
Sandie had always been the more plain-spoken of the two of us, but even that had seemed to reach new heights. It was common for her to use the words "cock" and "pussy," but to use them in this new context was very different. She snuggled up close to me then, put one arm around my shoulders, and began very lightly rubbing my crotch. She asked softly, "I wonder if another man's cum would taste as good as yours. Do you suppose it'd be something you'd like?"
She put the question like that because I had indeed given her oral sex after we'd had intercourse, and so was very familiar with the taste of my own semen. She had said early in our marriage that her orgasms were just as important as mine, and made me promise that if I climaxed first, I'd keep going until she had joined me.
There had been many times when my penis simply wouldn't cooperate after it'd shot its load, and that was when she would insist that I "get down there," as she put it. The first few times had been pretty difficult for me, but then it seemed as if I actually developed a taste for the stuff, and that particular part of sex had become okay with me. Looking back now, I realize that the act of licking my own cum out of her pussy could very well be the source of my fantasy about doing the same with another man's. Sandie told me not too long ago that she always fantasized I was licking up her lover's cum at those times, too. I guess we were on the same wavelength long before I had any indication of that fact.
When I finally attempted to answer her question, I was still unable to be as honest and open as she was, and I equivocated by saying, "I don't know. It's something that seems to be in most of those stories, so other men must think it's okay."
She snuggled closer then, and asked in a soft voice, "Do you want to try it, or is it all just a fantasy?"
That question cut right to the heart of the matter, and again I couldn't bring myself to answer honestly. Again, I fumbled with my answer, saying, "I don't know. It's been something I've liked to think about for a long time. Do you want to try it?"
If I thought I could divert her by throwing her question back to her, then I was proved wrong, for she answered without hesitation, "I've been thinking about it for a long time, too. I think we should try it, if you'd really be able to handle it. Could you really and truly sit there and watch another man making love to me?"
By that time, she had been fondling my crotch for several minutes, and I'm sure my brain was sinking lower and lower as it approached my balls. Her hand felt so good, and I didn't want her to stop. I said softly, "I think I could. It'd have to be something you really wanted to do, though. I wouldn't want to think you were doing it just because of me."
She laughed softly before replying, "If I didn't want it to happen, it wouldn't. You can be sure of that." She then shifted gears by saying, "In nearly all those stories, the woman is in charge, and she makes her husband do those things. Is that the way you want it for us?"
Again, that cut to the chase, because in my fantasy it had always been Sandie who was in charge, and she "made" me do those things. Actually admitting to such a thing, right to her face, was proving very difficult for me. Finally I said, "I'd want it to be your decision. I could never f***e you to do something like that."
She chuckled then, and gave my now-erect cock a playful pinch, saying, "You're damned right you couldn't. If there's any forcing required, I'll be the one doing it. You can bet on that."
She gave me another playful squeeze and pinch, then stood while saying, "I'd better get back out to the kitchen to see how dinner is coming along. It'll be ready in half an hour, so don't be late." Without another word, she left the room and headed for the kitchen, leaving me sitting there in a befuddled state, my brain racing as it thought of the things she'd said.
As soon as she left, I hurried to look through the stories she'd found. Since she hadn't mentioned something that was the most important part of my absolute favorites, I was hopeful that she hadn't found them. Those were the ones that had an added element to the cuckolding, and they all involved the same theme.
That theme usually went something like this: Following the man's cuckolding, the woman's lover becomes jealous of her husband, and begins to insist that something be done to eliminate him as a rival. Though each story had a different path, the final solution always involved the husband losing something. Of course, what he lost was either his cock or his balls, or sometimes both.
The thought of my wife reading such stories, knowing they were arousing to me, caused me extreme embarrassment. To my great relief, those particular stories were not in the pile, which probably meant that she hadn't looked in the next drawer down, where they were hidden. Relieved that my secret was safe for the moment, I sat there and reflected on what we'd talked about.
It was unbelievable to me that we'd even had that conversation, let alone arrived at the conclusion we had. Anyhow, the conclusion I thought we'd reached, which was that she wanted to take a lover, fuck him while I watched, and then make me service both of them afterwards. It was literally more than I could handle all at once, and as I walked to the bathroom to prepare for dinner, I was in a fog.
That she was prepared to take the bull by the horns, so to speak, was evident in our lovemaking that night. In the first place, it was odd for us to do such a thing on a Friday night. Our usual "schedule" was Saturday night, plus one other night during the week, depending on circumstances. That other night had come to be, by default I guess, Wednesday.
That night, after we had showered and climbed in bed, Sandie wasted no time in again bringing up the subject that had never left my mind since our conversation a few hours ago. She shocked me by saying, with no preliminaries, "I want you to sl**p in the nude from now on. It'll make it easier to get you turned on when I come home with a job for you to do. You can start now by taking off your undershorts."
I had always slept in undershorts only, never having developed a taste for wearing pajamas. It was easier to follow her orders then, because she had been fondling my penis since getting under the covers. I felt a thrill in my chest as I slipped down my shorts, then tossed them over the side of the bed. To be told to do something sexual in nature had been my secret desire for a long time by then, and for that desire to suddenly be met was proving to be pretty arousing to me. Before I'd even settled once again, my semi-erect cock was at full staff.
Sandie placed one hand on it and began stroking lightly, getting me more turned on with each second. After awhile, she said, "I've been thinking about who my first lover will be. It's not something to take lightly. I'm sure there would be plenty of men who'd like to get in my pants, but it all comes down to safety. If I'm going to let a man fuck me bare, then I need to know it's safe to do so. Don't you agree?"
I have to admit that the subject of safe sex very rarely came up in the stories I read, and even less frequently in my fantasies. Even in my aroused state, I could understand that if the other man wore a condom, the main ingredient of my fantasy wouldn't be present when I licked my wife's pussy. That she had an answer ready was proved when she continued, "I've been thinking about how to get around that problem for quite awhile now, and I keep coming back to Jack. What do you think about him?"
Jack is our next door neighbor. He's older than either of us, by probably 15 years, which would put him about 50 years of age. He'd been a teacher all his life in one of our local high schools, and had taken early retirement to care for his wife when she developed Alzheimer's disease about five years ago. When it became necessary for her to live in a nursing home a couple years back, Jack continued to live alone in their home, and to visit his wife every day, even though she no longer recognized him. She had passed away a little over two months ago, and he had been even more alone after that. It seemed such an unusual choice that I was taken aback for a few moments, and I hesitated before asking quietly, "Why would you choose Jack? I thought you'd want a younger man."
She laughed quietly before answering, "Actually, I think Jack is an excellent choice. He hasn't had sex in two years, and then only with his wife. That's a pretty good assurance it'd be safe to fuck him without a rubber. He's close by, so it would be pretty convenient for him to come to our bed, or for me to go to his. Plus, he has a big dick."
I suppose in other circumstances, that would have caused me to laugh, but at that time it didn't. All I could think of to say was, "How do you know that?"
She replied, "When he was mowing our lawn one time last spring, I wanted to sunbathe on the patio out back. Jack was mowing the lawn then, and since you were gone and couldn't do it, I asked him to put the suntan lotion on my back. I lay down on my stomach, and unfastened the strap on my bikini top so he wouldn't get the oil on it. I happened to glance at him out of the corner of my eye, while he was rubbing the stuff on my back, and the shorts he was wearing had a great big bulge in them. Lots bigger than you've ever had."
I think I need to explain why Jack would be mowing our yard, and even moreso why he would be rubbing suntan lotion on my wife. My job pays pretty well, and Sandie had quit her job five years ago because we really didn't need her income. To keep herself from becoming bored at home, she'd learned to be a very good cook. When Jack's wife could no longer care for the home, Sandie had begun to take prepared food over there a couple of times a week, just as a neighborly gesture. Jack had returned the favor by mowing our lawn in the summer, and clearing the snow off the sidewalks in the winter. Both sides were pleased by the arrangement, and it had continued even after his wife had entered the nursing home, and then died. We all seemed to feel very friendly toward one another, and I suppose that's why Sandie didn't think it odd to let him rub the oil on her bare back.
From the tone of her voice, I could tell that she had already made her choice, and said, "It sounds like the matter's already settled." She didn't pause at all before answering, "Yes, it is. Since I'm going to be the one getting fucked, I get to choose who does it. Don't you think that's fair? I'll let you know when I'm ready for you to do your part."
That brought up a part of the matter that had been nagging at my mind ever since we'd had our conversation before dinner. I asked quietly, "When are you going to do it?"
She began to stroke my cock more firmly then, before answering, "When I'm ready. You'll know when I give you your first taste of cream pie." I was already close to cumming by then, and her reference to that subject caused my fantasy to spring full-blown in my brain. She knew the effect her actions, and her crude words, were having on me, and then issued her second order of the night, saying, "I'm going to show you how we'll be doing it from now on. Get on your back."
With no conscious thought, I rolled from my side to my back. In the dim light from the hallway, I saw her sit up in bed. She was already naked, that being the way she usually slept in the warmer months. I saw her straddle my midsection, and then felt her guiding my cock inside her pussy.
Given the way she had been arousing me with her hand and the subject matter, I knew my orgasm would happen very quickly. She obviously wanted it that way, for she said, "Remember how this feels. Once I start fucking Jack, you'll be out of luck. If his cock really is as big as it looked, I wouldn't be able to feel you anyway, so it'd be a waste of time. Go ahead and cum now so I can give you your first lesson in the proper way to eat cum out of my pussy."
She then began to raise and lower her body in quick strokes, and in less than a minute my back arched and my cock began to shoot its seed inside her. She continued to ride me until the spasms stopped, then lifted off and quickly moved to straddle my head.
That method of giving oral sex to her had been the most arousing part of my fantasy, although in our normal sexual relations, I would have scooted down the bed and buried my face between her legs. She always continued to lie on her back while I licked and sucked, and I couldn't think of any way to ask her to sit on my face, as I so much wanted her to do.
This time, she settled in place as if we'd been doing it this way for many years. As I began licking her sticky pussy, she started giving me instructions in the proper way to perform oral sex. In a low voice, she said, "This will be a much better way for you to eat me. When I'm on my back, lots of cum runs down my crack and you don't get it. This way, you should be able to get every drop."
"I want you to run your tongue up and down the slit first and get all the cum that's there. That's the part that'll run out first, so you need to get it right away. Get busy."
She then didn't say anything more until I'd completed that part, and I licked and swallowed as quickly as I could. There was not much of my cum in that part of her pussy, and in fact I was getting less this way than in our usual position.
At one point in my efforts, she said, "Stop right there. Do you feel that hard bump? Yes, that's it. That's my clit. Remember where it is, and how it feels. Now I'm going to move up just a little bit so my pussy hole is over your mouth. That's where most of the cum will be, so you should be able to get a tummyful."
She repositioned slightly, and I could feel her hard little bump rubbing against my nose. She again instructed me, saying, "Okay. Now I'm right over your mouth. Start sucking on my hole."
I did as she ordered, and was almost shocked at the amount of cum that entered my mouth. When I'd eaten her pussy before, I'd never had to deal with a volume of cum this large, and I could see what she meant when she said that lots of cum used to run down her crack, and I didn't get it. My first efforts literally filled my mouth to overflowing, and I closed it and began to swallow. As soon as the first load was on its way to my stomach, I went back for more. It had never occurred to me that a man in his mid-thirties could produce so much semen, for it certainly never looked like that much when I masturbated. Now, though, I could see the basis for the "quarts" of cum usually referred to in my stories. Even though I knew the quantity was nowhere near that amount, it certainly seemed that way to me.
By the time I'd had the last of the available jism, my cock was once again rock hard. (As I read over what I've just written, I know there's no way I can ever explain how very erotic it was to be ordered to lie there on my back while my wife mounted my face. To be given even more orders about the proper way to service her pussy just made me hotter. I guess you'll just have to use your imagination, because I can't explain it).
When Sandie sensed that I'd finished my housekeeping duties, she said, "Now, I'm going to show you another way you'll eat me sometimes." She then lifted up a slight amount, and rotated her body until she was facing my crotch. After settling in position again, she said, "This puts my clit right over your chin, which sometimes feels good. I want you to always remember to shave right before you come to bed. I don't want to be rubbing my clit on your stubble."
While she was giving me that lesson, she had begun to move her hard little bud back and forth over my chin, and I could tell by the change in her voice that it was arousing her. What was arousing me was the fact that my nose was literally buried in her backside, and in my lust-driven state, the aroma there was intoxicating.
Her breathing by then had become rapid, and when she again spoke, it was almost in a gasp. She panted, "When I tell you to push your tongue in, do it as hard as you can. Get ready." That order surprised me, since my tongue was already buried as deep in her pussy hole as I could get it. Whatever she wanted was what I'd do, though, and I tried to focus on waiting for her command, rather than on my throbbing cock.
Several things happened at once right then. The first was her explosive gasp, followed by her order, "Now! Do it!". At the same time as she did that, she moved farther down my body. I could feel one of her hands working in her pussy that was now projecting beyond my chin. The other hand had taken a firm grip on my sac, and seemed to be doing its level best to crush the contents.
The part that proved to be the most erotic of all, however, was completely unexpected. When she had moved her crotch, her anus was re-positioned over my mouth. When she ordered me to f***e my tongue into her as hard as I could, it sank into that opening, rather than her pussy.
I'm sure you think that's more revolting than exciting, and when I was in a normal state of mind, back then, I'd have agreed. However, at that time, I was just beginning to cum, and everything we were doing was very sexually charged. It was not a bit offensive that she had ordered me to stick my tongue up her butt. It simply added another dimension to an already erotic situation.
I won't bore you with further descriptions of our lovemaking sessions during the next two weeks, other than to say they were very much like the one I've written about above. What was odd about them was that they seemed to happen almost every night, and I'm sure we never missed two nights in a row during that time. By the end of that two weeks, Sandie actually complimented me on all I'd learned about eating cream pie, as she liked to call it. She told me I was ready for the real thing, but that she'd expect me to keep practicing until she brought it to me.
So that's what I did.
The night Sandie gave me the compliment was a Thursday, as I recall. She had been making veiled references to being "almost ready" to make her move on Jack, and continued to do so. At no time did she ever say just when she was going to attempt to seduce our neighbor, just that it would be "soon." Given the way she had increased my anticipation every night, I knew it couldn't be soon enough for me.
The following Saturday seemed pretty normal in all ways. I trimmed our side of the hedgerow between our house and Jack's, and when he saw what I was doing, he got his trimmers and joined me. The conversation we had was difficult for me, since virtually the only thought that I had was about my wife in bed with him. I'm sure he thought I was very distracted, but he never said anything about it.
Sandie had been baking while I was working in the yard, and the delicious aroma just about knocked me out when I walked back in the house. It was by then about 6:00 in the evening, and she told me to go wash my hands, and dinner would be on the table when I got back.
We had dinner over with by an hour after I'd come in, and I sat expectantly waiting for her to serve the dessert she'd been baking. I was sure it was one of her famous pies, although I couldn't identify the type from just the smell.
To my disappointment, the dessert she served was nothing but a small dish of ice cream, but I consoled myself with the thought of maybe having some of the pie later, followed by another wonderful session in bed. I had come to very much look forward to our time there, and there were some days when I had an erection even when I was trying to work.
As soon as dessert was eaten, Sandie stood from the table. She said, "I'm going to go take a nice, long bath now. You can take care of the dishes." She then walked out of the room, leaving me to start clearing the table, and putting everything in the dishwasher. There was certainly nothing out of the ordinary about such a thing, since I quite often took care of those chores. It was just that she usually bathed immediately before we went to bed, so her doing so at that time of day was different.
I was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper when she came back from her bath. Her appearance just about took away my breath, and it was almost more than I could do to not drag her to the floor and beg her to let me give her pleasure.
She was wearing an older pair of very short shorts, ones that had fit her quite well a few years ago, but were now a size too small. Other than her sandals, her only other piece of clothing was a very narrow halter that covered about half of her lovely breasts, and was so thin that it showed off her nipples. It took no more than a glance to see that those two features were quite erect, and I found the sight very stimulating.
She was holding a round metal box that she often used to carry food over to the neighbors, and in answer to my unspoken question, she said, "I baked a pie for Jack, and thought I'd take it over there now. Guess what kind it is."
I was so distracted by her sexy appearance that I could barely answer her, but finally replied, "Is it coconut? That's what it smelled like."
She smiled then, saying, "No, honey, but that's close. It's a banana cream pie. I thought it was appropriate, since this way both of you will be having cream pie tonight. But I doubt that yours will taste like bananas."
With that she walked toward the door, leaving me almost dumbfounded. Her final words to me were, "Now you be a good little boy, and be in bed by 11:00. Bye." With that, she left the house, and I sat there with my brain racing.
Over and over I reviewed what she'd said, wondering if it meant she'd decided that the time had come for her to seduce Jack. When she returned, would she be carrying a little something extra, bringing it home to our bed, where she'd feed it to me?
I could think of nothing else all evening, and have no recollection at all of what I did while waiting for her. I'm sure that I tried to watch TV, but have no idea what was on. I may have tried to read something, but again can't recall doing so. What I do recall is fighting with my hand to keep it away from my crotch. The urge to masturbate was almost overwhelming, and it just about drove me crazy.
By 10:00, I was virtually out of my mind with curiosity about what was going on over there. I thought many times of sneaking through the hedge, and trying to peek in one of Jack's windows. More than anything else, the thing that prevented me from doing such a thing was the fear that Sandie would catch me. To have her angry with me was more than I could bear, and I vowed that I'd wait here for her, not matter how anxious I became.
I spent the last half hour before bedtime soaking in the bathtub. Even then, I could think of nothing else, even to the point that I actually feared washing my genitals, since that would probably put me over the edge. I wanted more than anything else to save my orgasm for Sandie, knowing that if I would jack off now, it'd take the edge off my lust, and I didn't want anything to do that.
A few minutes before 11:00, I climbed into bed, naked as ordered. I lay on my back so my hardon wouldn't rub on the sheet, and even threw off the top sheet to avoid that slight stimulation. I'd never seen the clock move so slow, and when I looked at the digital readout on the nightstand an hour after the previous glance, it tried to tell me that only a minute had passed.
A few minutes after 11:00, I heard the front door close, and my heart started to pound even more. I lay there in anticipation, and finally heard the top stairstep make its little creak as someone walked on it. My gaze was fixed on the doorway into the bedroom, and when I saw her dark form appear there, it was almost more than I could do to keep from crying out to her.
As she stepped into the bedroom, she placed her hands behind her back and untied the halter. She let it drop to the floor, and I wished with all my heart that the light were on so I could see her magnificent breasts. She had never stopped walking toward the bed, and by then had reached its side. I saw her hands drop to her side, and then could tell she was pushing down her shorts.
I couldn't contain myself any longer, and whispered in a voice made rough with emotion, "Did you do it?"
She didn't say a word, but just climbed into the bed on her knees. She swung one leg over my head, pulled something white from between her legs, and then whispered, in a voice as husky as my own, "See for yourself."
I couldn't even wait until she lowered her crotch to my mouth, but placed my hands on her hips and drew her downward. I knew then why she had so carefully trained me in the proper way to orally service her, for without those instructions, I would have failed to do it properly, in my frenzy.
My question was answered by the first swirling lick of my tongue. The taste buds there simply exploded with the sensation of tangy salt, and the musky scent of her pussy told me she had been having sex. The taste was different than my own, although not greatly so. The smell was also slightly different, although again, not greatly so.
What was very noticeably different, though, was the heat in her crotch, and the swollen condition of her pussy lips. When I ran my tongue over it, I could also tell that her clit was much larger than it'd ever been, at least in my experience. I was sure that all those clues were evidence of her arousal being at least as great as my own, and that in turn seemed to drive me to greater heights of excitement.
I tried to contain my raging impatience, and service her in the way I'd been trained to do. Even she must have been much more excited than usual, because after I'd made a couple of slow licks around her outer pussy, she whispered hoarsely, "Faster! Lick it faster, damn you!" That drove me to even greater heights of lust, and my tongue began to work as fast as my heart was beating.
I licked as fast as possible, bringing the treasures I found into my mouth, and then sending them to their rightful home in my stomach. Over and over I swallowed what I found, until there was no more to be had. She must have realized there was no more cum there for me, for she quickly moved forward a slight amount, placing her rock-hard clit over my nose and her delicious pussy hole over my mouth.
Her impassioned plea to, "Suck it! Now, God damn you!", hadn't even left her lips before my lips were fastened around her opening, and I was drawing in gobbet after gobbet of their mixed juices.
Her wordless cry then sprang from her throat, and I felt her thighs lock tightly around my head. Her crotch pressed against my face with so much f***e that I could no longer breathe, but that was completely unimportant to me. When she growled, more than said, "Eat it, damn you! Eat his cum out of me!", it was all that was needed to start my own so-long-delayed climax. I don't know if I'd ever shot my wad with nothing whatsoever touching my cock or balls, but that's exactly what happened at that moment.
I didn't care if I suffocated or drowned at that point, and both were possible. The tightness of her crotch to my face, and the overflowing mouthful of mixed cream, were just the way things were meant to be. I didn't need to die to go to Heaven, for I was already there.
There is no way for me to know if Sandie raised up, or my body simply reacted instinctively. Whatever, my next clear recollection is of my head being turned slightly to the side, and my lungs gasping for air. I was trying to breathe at the same time as I was trying to swallow the load in my mouth, and the end result was that I almost choked. It took several seconds for me to finally accomplish both goals, and by then Sandie was lying beside me, hugging me tightly.
As her breathing evened, she whispered in my ear, "Was it as good as you thought it would be?" The word "good" had no meaning in that context, and I struggled with putting into words what I had felt. Finally I answered, "I can't tell you how wonderful it was. I've been reading about it for so long, but what you just did to me is so far above the stories that there's just no comparison. It was the best thing that ever happened to me, by far."
We hugged again after I had rolled to my side to face her, and she said, "Feels like you're ready for more." She laughed softly then, and it took me a second or two to realize that she was feeling my erection pressing against her body. Until she had said that, I hadn't realized that I still had a hardon. It had happened before, of course, but that had been in my younger days. That it was happening now simply demonstrated how very arousing this entire evening had been.
She then asked the simple question that I was dying to ask, but couldn't bring myself to put into words. She asked quietly, "Do you want to hear about it?" I knew immediately what she meant, and replied simply, "Please."
She began, "Well, I took the pie over to Jack, as you know. When he answered the door, and saw me standing there dressed like that, his poor eyes just about popped out of his head. He didn't say anything, so I finally asked him if I could come in. He apologized for being so distracted, then held the door open while I walked in."
"I told him I'd take the pie to the kitchen, as was my usual habit, and started walking that way. He was right behind me, so I tried to wiggle my butt even more than usual, and it must have worked, because he had to clear his throat a couple of times before he could make any sort of conversation at all."
"When we got to the kitchen, I offered to serve him a slice of 'my' pie, and he got even more flustered. Finally he got out a plate, asking me if I wanted to have one also. I said we'd just eaten dinner, so was full up. I then cut a piece and put it on his plate. He was sitting at the kitchen table then, and I stood leaning against the countertop, a couple of feet away from him. This afternoon, I'd stood in front of our big mirror with the shorts on, and practiced different ways of standing until I found the one that would give a tiny peek at my cunt hair."
"I could tell he was trying his best to not look at my crotch, but just couldn't help himself. After all those years of no pussy, the poor man had to be desperate, and there was no way he could avoid looking at what I was displaying for him."
"When he finished his dessert, I suggested he put the plate in the sink, knowing that would mean he'd have to stand up. It was almost comical the way he tried to come up with excuses so he wouldn't have to do that, but finally he did it."
"As I'd hoped, his cock was hard. He was wearing a pair of old lightweight slacks, and the tent in them was absolutely huge. He tried to hold the plate in front of his crotch, and ended up dropping it on the floor. Luckily it was plastic, so it didn't break. Anyway, I got down to pick it up, which put my head just a few inches from his crotch. I think he was frozen in embarrassment by then, because he didn't even try to move away."
"When I put the plate back on the table, I 'accidentally' brushed his erection with one hand, then said I was sorry. He put his hands in front of his crotch, but seemed to be too embarrassed to say anything. When I put my hands over his, and asked if I'd hurt him there, the expression on his face was almost comical."
"That's when I stood up and kissed him. It took him a few seconds to respond, but when he did he really got into it. It was pretty obvious it'd been a long time for him, and he was very enthusiastic. I started rubbing my body against his, and that really set him off."
"I don't even remember walking to the bedroom with him, but somehow that's where we were. We had been kissing and rubbing all the way, and when we fell on the bed, we kept doing it. When I told him my halter was too tight, and I couldn't breathe, he untied it for me. It fell off, and he seemed to have eyes for nothing other than my tits. I pulled his head down to them, and he really went crazy. God, I've never had better titty love. He must absolutely adore boobs, because he spent a long time kissing, licking, sucking, and even biting them."
"He didn't seem to know how to get my shorts off, or maybe he didn't remember how to. Whatever, I finally had to lift up my butt and tell him to pull them down. I thought he'd pop a gasket when he did that, and his eyes were riveted to my crotch. My butt was still up in the air, and I said, 'Don't stop now.' His hands were actually shaking when he pulled down my panties."
"I spread my legs then, and took one of his hands and put it between them. He seemed to remember what to do, and started giving me a really good fingering. I pulled his head back to my tits then, and let him work on both ends. It felt really good."
"I don't have any idea how long we did that, but it was definitely getting darker outside. I decided it was time to get him undressed too, and unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. His pants and undershorts were next, and I have to tell you the size of the wet spot he left in his underwear made me think for a minute that he'd already climaxed. His cock was still hard as a rock, so I figured he probably hadn't."
"Speaking of his cock, I can tell you it was bigger than I'd hoped. The bulge I saw in the back yard was about half the size of the real thing. He has to be twice as big as you."
"There was no way for me to resist what needed to be done, so I lay down on my back and pulled him on top of me. I guided his monster in me, and then just lay back and let him do the rest. I could tell he was really anxious, but he still took his time. If he'd just have rammed it in me, I'd probably have died."
"I lost my cherry when I was 15, and don't really remember much about it, other than it hurt and felt good at the same time. Now I know what it feels like to lose it again. His first few strokes got him in as far as you've ever been, and after that it was all unexplored territory. As far as I'm concerned, I've been a virgin all my life until tonight. Now I know what it feels like to be fucked by a real cock. It was great."
"You know how you always cum just a few seconds after you put you pecker in me? Well, Jack's not like that. He must have been almost out of his head with excitement, but he still had the willpower to control himself. He fucked me real slow for a long time, and then when he could tell I was just about ready to cum, he speeded up his strokes. God, he was good!"
"He seemed to know just when my orgasm started, because he rammed that pole in me as deep as he could and held it there. It hurt like Hell, but it felt so good that I thought I'd die. I know he climaxed then, but to tell the truth, I never knew just when he did it. I was so wrapped up in my own orgasm, that nothing else mattered."
"Finally I came back from wherever I'd been, and realized he was starting to pump me again. God, that man was horny! My cunt was sore in places I never even knew I had. I thought about asking him to stop, but about then it started to feel good again, so I didn't. He kept humping away, and I swear to God his cock actually got bigger. I don't know how long it took that second time, but when he finally got his rocks off again, I thought he'd had a heart attack."
"I didn't have another orgasm the second time, but that was okay. It just felt so good to have that big dick inside me that I didn't need to cum again to enjoy it. It really and truly was the best fucking I've ever had. So far, at least. Maybe the next one will be even better."
"After he rolled off me, I wadded up my panties and jammed them in my pussy to hold his two loads in there. I think I could actually feel his cum squishing around in me when I moved. I didn't know a man could hold so much cum in his balls, even ones as big as Jack's. Of course, I guess you already know how much there was, don't you?"
"Anyway, I told him I had to get home right away, and got dressed. We kissed goodbye and I headed for the door. You know what was really funny about it? He actually thanked me. It may sound kind of funny, but I really liked that."
"I hurried home just as fast as I could, because I could feel his cum leaking out of my pussy. You know the rest."
I did know the rest, and my mind flashed those memories past my eyes time after time. There is no way to describe how very exciting it was to hear Sandie tell me how she had seduced our neighbor, and then rushed home to me so I could clean her. No story I'd ever read, or ever would, could compare with the real thing. Again and again I told her how very much I loved her, and how precious she was to me.
Her only reply to that was to place one hand on my shoulder and push me over on my back. She said simply, "Prove it," and then again straddled my head.
This time she was facing my crotch, and I knew what was expected of me. After paying homage to her pussy once again, I felt her move down my face as she'd done almost every night for the past two weeks. Her clit, which was once again hard as she recalled the fucking Jack had given her, pressed against my clean-shaven chin. Her pussy hole was over my mouth, and my tongue was buried as deeply in it as possible. Her puckered opening was over my nose, and I could feel her spread her cheeks in an attempt to push it into her.
She then lowered her hands to my crotch, and began to once again do what she had trained me to enjoy over the past several days. While one of her hands squeezed my balls, the other pinched every square inch of my cock. She continued to do that until her breathing once again became ragged.
At that time, she moved even farther down and brought one hand to her now-exposed clit, and began to frig it furiously. Her movement had centered her asshole over my mouth, and I did my duty by pushing my tongue as deeply inside her as possible.
As we both approached our second orgasms in the past hour, she began to concentrate on punishing my penis with the one hand that remained there. I had learned to love that sort of attention, and it only made me hotter. When at last she gasped to signal her orgasm, I lifted my butt off the bed to f***e my cock against her punishing hand, hoping that would strengthen her efforts.
It did. She pinched the tender skin right under the head, and began to pull it straight up with all her strength. At the same time, she said in a husky whisper, "God, I wish you could make it grow as big as Jack's." That's when my cum began to spurt, and I literally sprained my tongue trying to f***e it even deeper inside her.
Following her second orgasm in one hour, and her third in a very short space of time, Sandie was obviously exhausted. She slumped forward on her outstretched arms, and waited as she returned to reality. After almost two minutes in that position, she moved off and lay beside me, flat on her stomach. When her breathing evened, she mumbled, "Good night."
I was certain she had already fallen asl**p, but I returned her parting sentiment by saying, "Good night. I love you very much. Thank you for what you did today." She made no indication she'd heard me, but I still felt better for having said it. Her mention of Jack having said "thank you" as she left told me that it was important to her, and I made a mental note to myself to try to be more courteous to her in the future. She was the most important person in the world to me, and the least I could do was to tell her so by my words and actions. With that resolution seated firmly in my brain, I joined her in contented sl**p.
If I had expected my wife to visit her next-door lover every night, then return to our bed for me to service her, I was disappointed. She had told me early on that if we were going to make this attempt to realize my long-held fantasy, then she would be the one in charge. That she expected me to honor the agreement was apparent the next day.
I had awakened first, and lay there for a few minutes, looking at her lovely face. My love for her almost overwhelmed me then, and it was almost more than I could do to not take her in my arms and tell her how very special she is to me. The only thing that stopped me from doing so was the simple fact that I knew she was not a "morning person," and truly wanted nothing to do with me, or anyone else, before she'd had time to awaken on her own, and drink at least one cup of coffee.
For that reason, I quietly got out of bed and went to the bathroom to do all those things that are necessary to start the day. It was a Sunday, so I was at loose ends, and spent the next couple of hours doing small chores and reading the Sunday newspaper. When I heard Sandie come down the stair at mid-morning, I rushed to the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee for her, and then brought it to her in the sitting room, where we usually chatted on those weekend mornings.
We greeted each other with a hug, which was normal in all ways, and we sat in our recliner chairs and shared the newspaper and talked idly. After about half an hour, she stopped reading and seemed to visibly shift gears. When she began speaking, I could tell we were about to have a serious discussion.
She began, "I don't ever recall having a more restful night's sl**p." She chuckled softly before continuing, "Of course, the three orgasms didn't hurt." That seemed to recall something else, and she chuckled again before resuming. "Speaking of hurting, it's for damn sure my pussy never felt like this. I think Jack was inside me twice as far as you ever were, and I can feel it today."
She continued in a reflective tone, almost as if listening to an inner voice, "I guess it's not so much a hurt or ache as it is just an awareness of something new. There's no way to tell a man how such a thing feels, but it's certainly different. The more I think about it, the better it feels, in an odd way. If I concentrate I can almost feel his cock forcing its way up there. I wonder if that's the way I felt the day after my cherry was busted."
Since I had nothing to contribute to what she was saying, I sat looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue. After a few moments, she went on, "I think we really need to take the time to give some serious thought about what we're doing here. Given the wonderful way I feel after having been fucked only two times by Jack, and the way you seemed to be more excited than ever before in your life when you were sucking his cum out of me, I think the whole situation could become pretty addicting. Maybe we should think long and hard about it before we go any further."
Her comment seemed to be humorous to her, and she paused to laughed. Seeing that I had failed to catch the joke, she stopped laughing long enough to say, "Long and hard. That's what Jack was." Her laughter then pealed forth again, and I joined in.
As soon as we quieted, I asked, "Are you saying you don't want to do it ever again? Is that what you mean?"
She reflected on that for awhile, then replied, "No. Actually, it's just the opposite. I would really like to go over there right now and make him fuck me all day. It was something pretty special to have a cock like that inside me, and I'd have it there all the time, if I could."
She paused, as if trying to find the right way to say what she wanted, then continued, "That's what I'm trying to say, I guess. This sort of thing could become a habit with me, if we allow it to go on. I'm just saying that what Jack did to me was really good, probably the best sex I've ever had. And what came after wasn't bad either. When I climbed in bed and sat down on your mouth, the thrill that passed through my crotch was really intense. There's just something about feeding another man's cum to my husband that strikes a nerve, I guess."
"When I was sitting on you last night, some of the things I thought about were almost frightening. Do you remember what I did to your little dick when I had that second orgasm?" She paused long enough for me to nod my head as I recalled the pain she'd given me by pinching and stretching the skin under my cock head, then went on, "If you knew what I was thinking about then, you'd be scared to death. Or at least, you should be."
Again she stopped to reflect, then continued, "To make a long story short, I can say that if we decide to go on with this stuff, then we're going to get deeper and deeper into it. You can use your imagination about what that'll mean to both of us. I really think we need to decide now what we're going to do."
She stopped then, and sat waiting expectantly for me to say something. As I reviewed what she had said, I realized that my cock was beginning to stir. It had also been tired from the workout it'd had last night, and this was the first time it had made its presence felt. I smiled as the thought crossed my mind that it had already voted, and then said, "The only thing I can say is that last night was the most exciting thing we've ever done. When I was waiting for you to come home, I almost went out of my mind with anticipation of what you'd be bringing for me, and what we'd do when you climbed in bed with me. Just thinking about it now is getting me excited all over again. I guess if I had to vote right now, I'd say we shouldn't stop. The final choice is up to you, though, as you said a couple of weeks ago. Nothing has changed that, and it's still your decision."
She started nodding her head slowly even before I had finished speaking, and as I did she said with no hesitation, "It's settled then. I knew my decision the moment Jack's cock entered me. I want to fuck him every chance I get. And since I now know exactly how exciting it is to feed his cum to you, I want to do that just as often also. I just wanted to give you one last chance to have your say."
She laughed again, then said, "After this, you won't have any say at all, since your mouth will have better things to do." I joined her in laughter then, even though what I was feeling was closer to arousal than mirth. It was the decision I had wanted to make all along, but in the final analysis, it was hers alone to make, and now that she had done so, our future seemed very exciting to me. Maybe if I had known then what I know now, my vote would have been radically different. However, as I recall the excitement and the arousal I was feeling then, I know no other decision was possible.
Sandie had announced her decision, following that conversation, that we would not be having sex until next Saturday. She said it was better for her to wait that long for her "batteries to recharge," and so that's the way it would be. Since I had already given her the power to make those decisions, I had no choice but to comply. There was one other part to that decision, and it was one that proved to be much more difficult for me to observe. She said, "You'd better understand that 'no sex' means just that. I want you to promise me you won't play with yourself in the meantime. Can you do that?" Right then, I was sure such a thing wouldn't be difficult to do, although it didn't turn out that way in practice.
We spent the following week in our usual and accustomed ways, with me working and her doing things around the house plus taking care of her volunteer activities in the community. At no time did she give any indication of being horny, or of even thinking about what we'd done, and planned to do even more of in the future. Anyone who knew us would have noticed nothing unusual. I did notice one change though, and it was in the way Jack greeted me when we met across the hedgerow. At first, he seemed to be almost shy, but by a couple of days later, he seemed to be treating me more as one of his students. It's difficult to give any examples of that change, but that's just the impression I had. He seemed to think he was "in charge" somehow, and that I should defer to him.
By the time Saturday arrived, I was constantly horny. During the times when we'd had sex twice a week, I usually masturbated on a daily basis, most often in the shower at night. When I had been denied that outlet, plus sex with Sandie, my balls began to drive me crazy with their demand for relief. I remember having almost a perpetual erection during the entire day, and Sandie commented about it several times, usually making a veiled reference to needing to "do something about that problem." I hoped that meant she'd be visiting Jack that night, then returning to our bed for another exciting session.
To my surprise, and then my instant arousal, about two hours before our usual dinner time, she announced that we'd be having a guest that night. Of course, I immediately asked if it would be Jack, but she just told me to be patient, and all my questions would be answered before much longer. That intervening time was probably the longest in my life, and I caught myself several times glancing out the front window to see if anyone was approaching the door.
About one hour before dinner, Sandie told me come upstairs with her. When we got there, she ordered me to fill the bathtub with water and bath salts, and after I'd done so, she got in and gave me orders to bathe her.
Doing so only served to further increase the excitement I was feeling, because it seemed to confirm my suspicions that her lover was to join us that night. As I considered all that was implied by that situation, I was torn between excitement and concern about my true feelings on the matter. It was one thing to read about some anonymous man watching his wife and lover, and then servicing them afterwards. It was entirely another to be faced with the realization that the fantasy was about to be made real. Again and again I asked myself if I really could do such a thing, and every time I arrived at the same answer: I don't know.
When she was ready to get out of the tub, I assisted her and then began to towel her dry as ordered. She told me to spend extra time on her breasts and between her legs, and I did so, further increasing my excitement to the point I feared my cock would soon begin to spurt even with no assistance from me.
While I had been drawing her bath, Sandie had been laying out the clothes she wanted to wear that night. As we walked into the bedroom, I saw them on the bed, and knew at that moment that all my hopes, and maybe my fears, would soon be realized.
There were only three garments laying there. The first was a pair of white panties; the second was the same pair of short shorts she'd worn one week ago; the third was the skimpy halter. My hands were trembling as I put the clothes on her, for it went without saying that I was preparing my wife for her lover, and that act was very, very erotic to me.
When we returned to the downstairs, I was directed to place the dinnerware on the table, and used that mundane activity to distract my thoughts, and hopefully to quiet my raging hardon. It seemed to work, for by the time the doorbell rang promptly at 7:00, my cock was only semi-erect.
It was no surprise to me that Jack was standing on our front porch when I opened the door. We exchanged greetings, he easily and I with difficulty. Luckily he had brought a bottle of wine, so I had an excuse to take it to the kitchen, leaving him sitting in the front room.
Sandie was busy with last-minute preparations, and seemed to be finishing up as I entered. When I told her Jack had arrived, she smiled and gave me a small hug, then said, "I'm going to go talk to him. When you get this stuff on the table, call us." With that she left the kitchen, leaving me to figure out how to serve a meal, which never before had been my responsibility. It seemed that many changes had been made in our lives, and this was just one more.
I did as well as I could in transferring the food to serving dishes, and then carrying them to the dining room table. When everything seemed to be ready, I walked to the front room to call them, and that's when the changes that had been made hit me solidly between the eyes.
Jack was sitting in the recliner that I used, and he was not alone there. Sandie was sitting on his lap, and as I walked into the room, they were kissing. I watched in silence for what seemed an eternity, but couldn't have been more than a few seconds. When they broke the kiss, Sandie noticed me standing there and said, "Oh, hi honey. Is dinner ready? We're starved." I seemed to be unable to talk, and just mutely nodded my head. That was the signal for them to get out of the chair and accompany me to the dining room, acting for all the world as if everything were as normal as could be.
The dinner was certainly uneventful, and even the conversation seemed to flow easily. Jack had a large reservoir of stories about his teaching days, and he never tired of telling us about them. Before I realized it, the meal was finished. Sandie then told me to clear the table, and she'd take care of the dessert.
I hurried to do her bidding, and was pleasantly surprised when Jack offered to help me. We continued to converse on very ordinary subjects, and it was difficult for me to reconcile what was happening with what I expected to happen.
The table was soon cleared, and just as Jack and I re-seated ourselves, Sandie entered carrying the dessert tray. She placed a slice of pie in front of Jack, another at her chair, and a small dish of ice cream before me. When I looked questioningly at her, she said with a loving smile on her face, "Don't worry, honey. You'll be having your cream pie later."
I heard a muffled snort from Jack's direction, and when I looked at him, could see he was trying to hide his reaction to my wife's comment, but wasn't doing a very good job of it. As soon as Sandie was once again seated, he began again on his stories, and soon the two of them were chatting easily. As for me, I nibbled at my ice cream in silence, my head spinning as I considered what she'd said. From Jack's reaction, it was pretty clear that he knew what to expect from this night, and that meant that Sandie had been talking to him during the week, telling him about my part in her love affair. Even with the cooling effect of the ice cream, I knew my face was burning bright red with embarrassment.
When we finished the desserts, I once again cleared the table. Sandie told me to bring the wine bottle and some glasses to the front room, and I hurried to the kitchen to do that. As before, when I entered the front room, Jack was sitting in my chair, and my wife was on his lap. Also as before, they were kissing, but this time the increased level of passion was plain to see.
I opened the wine bottle and poured our drinks, then after I'd handed two glasses to them, I took mine to the couch. Sandie took that moment to say, "God, Jack! There's something that feels like a rock in your lap. Let me move it out of the way so it doesn't poke me." She then sat on the upholstered arm of the recliner, placed her wine glass on the side table, and quite nonchalantly pushed her hand down the front of his trousers.
As I watched as if hypnotized, her hand moved about in his pants. It was easy to see that he had an erection, and she was stroking it. Finally she said that it should be better now, and once again settled into place on his lap. During the short space of time between her removing her hand, and then resuming her place, I could see the bulge in his trousers. I knew then that my wife hadn't been teasing me about the size of Jack's penis. Given the tent there, there was a very good chance the thing really was twice the size of mine. I was torn between feelings of jealousy and excitement, as I visualized where his cock would be before much longer.
Sandie was obviously having the same sort of thoughts. Between sips of wine, the pair would kiss, and each time the kisses grew in length. Her arousal was easy to see through the thin material of her halter, and that sight seemed to inflame me even more. By the time they had drained their glasses, I knew my own trousers were tented, although not nearly as much as Jack's.
She stood then, and took her lover's hand to pull him to his feet. As I watched in mute fixation, she said, "Let's all go upstairs now." She looked directly at me and asked, "Are you ready, honey? I know Jack is." The two of them laughed at that little joke, but I was simply frozen in place, and could make no response. It was only when they left the room, arm in arm, that I found the strength to stand and follow them.
By the time I reached the door out of the front room, they were already beginning to climb the stairs. My wife looked back over shoulder, saying, "Hurry up, sweetie! I don't want to keep Jack waiting." They continued upstairs, and I walked faster to catch up, slowing only when I came up behind them as they reached the bedroom door.
Once inside, they stood by the bed, kissing passionately. Jack's hands roamed everywhere on my wife's body, and I could tell by her sighs and small movements that she was becoming even more aroused by his attentions. She pulled away from him a short distance, then said to me, "Honey, I want you to undress me for Jack." She then stood there waiting, as if unsure of my reaction. I was also unsure, but only for a split second. I took the two steps necessary to reach her, and with trembling hands untied the string that held her halter in place.
As the flimsy piece of cloth hit the floor, Jack said in a husky voice, "Jesus, Sandie. You have the most perfect breasts of any woman on this planet. That has to be the most beautiful sight in the world." His hands then slowly reached out to her, and began to caress them, moving in sensuous circles around the engorged nipples, and every now and then pinching and tweaking them. Her sighs, and increasingly ragged breathing, signaled the success of his attentions, and I saw her arch her neck back and push her breasts even closer to him.
Again I felt as if hypnotized, and was unable to move until she said, "The rest of it, honey! Hurry! I need him so bad!" That order seemed to awaken me, and I reached toward her waist to begin pushing down her shorts. She stopped me with a curt, "Not like that! On your knees!"
My brain was in my balls by that time, and I was sure my cock was harder than it had been in years. Without conscious thought, I knelt at her side and began to complete the undressing of her lovely body. In a matter of seconds, she stood completely naked before her lover, and again he told her how beautiful she was.
I had somehow expected her to order me to undress him also, but that didn't happen. Instead, she unbuttoned his shirt and removed it. She then dropped to her knees and unlaced his shoes. They were quickly removed, followed by his socks. She then unbuckled his belt, unfastened and unzipped his trousers, and slowly pulled them down.
The tent I saw in his undershorts caused me to fear for my wife's safety, and I knew then what she had meant by feeling like a virgin again when he had first fucked her. Even though I couldn't yet see the true size of his penis, it was apparent that it was much larger than mine. The head of the thing was almost sticking above the waistband of his undershorts, and that meant it surely had to be at least 8" long. As I thought of my own penis, not quite 6" in length, I could understand why Sandie would say his was twice the size of mine. I'm sure it felt that way to her.
She then pulled down his undershorts, revealing to my transfixed eyes the thing that she so loved to feel between her legs. As it sprang downward a short amount, then stood there throbbing slightly, I had to change my doubting opinion about his cock being double the size of mine. The diameter of the thing looked to be easily that much larger than mine, and I knew instinctively I was no match for him.
As soon as he had stepped out of his trousers and shorts, Sandie reached up to his cock and began to slowly caress it. She looked at me, and said in a soft, dreamy voice, "Isn't it beautiful, honey? Do you see now what I meant about it being twice the size of yours? It's no wonder I felt like a virgin again, is it?"
I hoped she wasn't expecting a response from me, for I was simply unable to make one. The sight of my wife's hand lovingly caressing her lover's penis was almost too arousing to watch. His already rampant cock seemed to grow even more as she paid homage to it, and I could see the tiny drop of pre-cum beginning to form on the tip of the swollen head.
After she had caressed and stroked his member for what seemed like an eternity, she said, without looking toward me, "Get undressed." At no time had she ceased her attentions, and it seemed that her order to me was nothing but an afterthought. I was incapable of disobeying her by then, and moved hands and fingers that were made of wood, trying to get them to unbutton my shirt. At last I was successful, and soon my clothing was laying on the floor along with my wife's and her lover's.
She stood and led him to the bed then, never releasing her hold on his massive organ. After asking him to lie in the center of our king-size bed, she also climbed up on it and straddled his legs, resting lightly on his knees.
Without taking her eyes from his throbbing cock, she spoke softly to me, saying, "Honey, get up here with us. I want you beside Jack, with your head right here." When she said that, she patted the part of the bed beside his midsection, and I'm sure I broke all speed records as I hurried to obey.
As soon as I was in place, she scooted forward and raised her crotch, stopping as her pussy was a few inches away from that part of him that was the center of our attention. My head was now less than a foot away from the thing, and I could see the drop of pre-cum had grown so much that it was ready to drop off.
In an even more husky voice, Sandie said, "Sweetie, rub that stuff all over the head of his cock. It'll help him get in me." As my hand moved to obey, I knew both of them were watching intently as I performed this act which would help another man find it easier to fuck my wife. I soon was oblivious to their presence, for the simple act of touching the head of his penis seemed to find a new side of me, and I reveled in the exquisite softness of his glans, which was, at the same time, so very hard.
I used one fingertip to spread his juice over the massive thing, and was almost reluctant to pull my hand away when she said, "That's enough. It's for me, not you." She had put her hand on my wrist as she said that, and used it to drag my hand away from the oh-so-fascinating part of him that was now bobbing back and forth even faster.
She then re-positioned herself above his member, but paused before lowering her crotch to accept him. Again she said softly, "Put it in me." I placed one hand on the shaft of his cock, and held it still beneath her. She began to slowly lower her pussy toward it, and I watched as she began to impale herself.
Both of them sighed deeply as the head disappeared from sight. For my part, I was unable to utter any sound whatsoever, other than my ragged breaths. I remember hearing her moans of pleasure as his member sank deeper and deeper into her, and also hearing him tell her how very beautiful she was. That instantly shamed me, for I knew that at no time in my life had I given her a compliment like that when she consented to having sex with me. In some deep recess of my brain, I realized that she needed that, and it was an important part of her attraction to her lover.
By the time she had been fucking him for about five minutes, she said breathlessly, "That's as far as you were ever in me. After that, I'm a virgin again." I had eyes for nothing other than his cock slowly disappearing in my wife's pussy, and knew when she said that, about 1/3 of his shaft had yet to enter her. I'll never be able to explain why that simple statement didn't make me jealous, but seemed to incite feelings of love and arousal that threatened to overwhelm me. Rather than wanting to pull him off her, I had to fight with my arms to keep them from pressing her down with all the f***e they could bring to bear.
I have no way to estimate how long they fucked, other than it seemed like an eternity on one hand, and a split second on the other. I do know that their lovemaking lasted far, far longer than any time she and I had done it, and again I was ashamed at how selfish my own performance had been. It was obvious to see that Jack was concerned about Sandie's pleasures, not his own.
The simple fact was demonstrated time and again by the way he caressed and stimulated her breasts as she rode him, by the way he constantly told her how very beautiful she was to him, and by the way he would use one finger to stimulate her clitoris as she pumped up and down on his cock. Everything about his actions spoke of his concern for her pleasure, and when she finally felt her orgasm overwhelm her, she begged him to find his own pleasure at the same time.
There was no mistaking when that moment of supreme pleasure consumed her, for she seemed to allow every ounce of her weight to be used to f***e her own impalement, at the same moment uttering her wordless cry of delight. She then began to pant the words I had never heard her say, but would have done anything to hear, if I had known they were within her.
Her so-erotic words were simple, and were repeated over and over as she climaxed. "Oh, God, Jack. Please cum in me. Please do it. Hurry. Fill my pussy." The passion in those simple words was almost more than I could bear, and I could feel my own orgasm building ever closer.
I saw his hips lift from the bed then, seeming to lift her to the ceiling, and causing his cock to bury itself even deeper. She gasped one final time then, and I saw her head thrust back so violently that it seemed her neck had broken. Again and again her body shuddered, and I could tell by his actions that their juices were mixing deep within her.
At last he settled slowly to the bed once again. She seemed to have lost the ability to sit upright, and fell forward on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her to him with all his strength as they kissed fervently.
All good things must end, and their kiss did too. Sandie raised her body back to its former position and looked down at me, saying, "Now do you see what real fucking is like?" I seemed to have lost the ability to speak, and could only nod my head in mute affirmation. In truth, I did know the difference between my performance and true lovemaking, for it had been demonstrated to me quite vividly. Again the shame I felt warred with the extreme excitement and lust that threatened to consume me.
It was then that she lifted off his semi-erect member and moved back to sit lightly on his knees. At the same time as she did that, she placed one hand between her legs, and I could see she was using her fingers to pinch her pussy lips together. No explanation was needed for why she was doing that, and I knew that the time was near when I would be expected to do my part.
Sandie placed her free head under my head and lifted it off the bed. Not a word was said as she guided it toward her lover's crotch, and the still-large penis. Even though it was now resting at peace on his stomach, it was still more than half erect. The thing was completely covered in their combined juices, and it glistened in the light of the lamp on the nightstand.
I don't know if anything was said to me, and I don't know if Sandie's hand was at all necessary. I do know that I began to lick his member as frantically as if I were starving, and he was allowing me the only food left in the world. Her hand was on my head the whole time my tongue was servicing him, and it seemed to guide me from the tip of his cock to the base of his balls. The only time her hand left its position was when she lifted his penis from his abdomen. Again, no instructions were needed for me to know it was time to open my mouth and complete my efforts.
Having his member in my mouth, so soon after it had been in my wife's vagina, seemed the most natural thing in the world right then. The taste was no different from what she had fed me one week ago, although the quantity certainly was. Where she had almost drowned me, he was giving me just a small portion. Probably the most exciting thing about it was the texture of his penis. I had never realized how exquisitely soft and velvety smooth the head of a cock would be. I had never known a texture to equal the ridges and bumps in the shaft. The most marvelous part, though, was feeling the thing expanding in my mouth as it responded to the attention I was giving it. By the time Sandie pulled my head away, it was fully erect once again, and able to stand unaided.
She said, simply, "Now it's my turn." I needed no instructions to lower my head to the bed, and once again lie on my back. She quickly moved off Jack's legs and placed her knees beside my head, her still-pinched pussy centered over my mouth.
Her only words to me were, "Your dessert is ready. Enjoy." She pulled her hand away, and held her crotch in position, letting me look at the most lovely sight in the world. As I watched, her pouting lips parted slightly, and the treasure she had held within herself began to slowly drop toward my waiting, wide-open mouth.
I saw her leaning forward slightly, looking down at my face. At that moment, the first gobbet of their cum broke free and dropped onto my tongue, and I savored the delicious flavor as the taste buds there responded to it. I saw the next icicle of their juices forming, and quickly swallowed the first. Again I opened as wide as possible, and again was rewarded with another mouthful.
Sandie then settled in place on my lips, and I began to service her in the manner which she had taught me. It took all my concentration to follow her instructions by swirling my tongue around the slit, and then concentrating my efforts on her hole. Mouthful after mouthful was sent to its rightful home in my stomach, and much too soon there was no more to be had, even though I sucked as strongly as I dared. It seemed that I was simply out of my mind with frenzied lust by then, and no amount of their cum could have slaked my thirst.
When she at last lifted off me, it was all I could do to not pull her back down, hoping there would be at least one more tiny drop for me. She had other ideas by then, and asked for her lover's help in putting them in action. Her voice was once again husky with emotion as she said, "Jack, lift his legs back over his head."
I wasn't capable of rational thought by then, and simply had no idea of her purpose. As he did her bidding, though, and as she placed her hand on my cock at the same time as she ordered, "Open your mouth," I knew what she intended. It was beyond my ability to disobey, and my mouth sprang open as wide as possible.
As he held my legs above my head, Jack pushed his erection up against my balls. He seemed to u*********sly begin moving the thing against me, and I could feel his sac pressing against my exposed butthole. Along with everything else, that action, which would have been disgusting to me in a more lucid state of mind, simply added to the sexual excitement that had overcome me.
My glazed-over eyes watched in fascination as she stroked my penis, and I'll never forget the sight of the slit in my cock head expanding, and the first spurt of semen literally exploding out of it. She stopped pumping me then, and simply aimed my cock at the target. I won't pretend that "quarts of cum" shot into my mouth, as some writers like to say. Rather, my entire load filled me only once. I held my mouth open as I waited for more, but when she saw my orgasm was complete, my wife said softly, "Swallow it." I did.
I won't bore you with further descriptions of what the three of us did that night. Suffice it to say that both my wife and Jack had been aroused by the attentions I paid them, and as soon as they were able, they began to make love for the second time. About an hour later, my services were again required, and while they were exciting to me, my second orgasm of the night was not allowed.
I remember Jack saying something about being exhausted, and needing to go home for some much-needed rest. Sandie agreed with his assessment of their condition, and watched quietly as he dressed. We walked with him down the stairs and to the door, neither of us bothering to dress. The lovers kissed good night, and Jack left. We turned off the lights around the house, just as we normally would, and returned to our bed, just as we normally would.
As we lay in bed, drifting off, Sandie said in a drowsy voice, "That was the best thing that's ever happened to me. I'm so glad I found your stories, aren't you?" I think I mumbled some sort of agreement, but I'm not sure. She was talking very softly then, and as I strained to hear, it sounded like she said, "I loved seeing you suck his dick. When he rubbed it against your asshole while holding your legs up, I wanted to see him put it in you. Maybe next time." She was then quiet, and I knew she'd dropped off, exhausted by her hard night's "work."
I also fell asl**p then, and had no conscious thoughts for many hours. I do know that my sl**p was visited by some pretty arousing dreams, probably because of the lingering taste of the cum of three different people. It was worth it, though, because when we awoke late the next morning, Sandie was ready for me to service her again. I love doing that, and had come to believe it was my destiny to do it for her forever.
My wife and I did nothing of a sexual nature during the next week, unless you include talking about sex. Given how very arousing her words can be to me, maybe I should include them as an important part of sex. Knowing what I've learned in the months that followed our first experience with turning me into a cuckold, I know I should have paid much more attention when talking to Sandie. She always appreciated Jack's compliments to her, and I could tell they increased her enjoyment.
I remember a part of the conversation we had over lunch the day following her lover's visit to our bed. It was short and to the point, but I know now that it was important to our relationship. Perhaps I should have devoted more thought to just exactly what it was she was asking, as well as to my answer.
As we sat there finishing our coffee, she began by saying, in an almost idle tone of voice, "Well, now you know what it's like to be a cuckold. Is it as exciting as it is in your stories?" I nodded my head in answer, then said, "Actually, it was ten times more exciting. When I saw his cock disappearing inside you, I just about passed out with excitement. Then when he climaxed in you, and I knew you were just about ready for me, I couldn't think of anything else. It was the best thing ever, I guess. What did you think about it?"
She replied, "I can't explain it, but when he was fucking me while you watched, it turned me on lots more than when I went over there last week. I guess it's pretty odd, in a way, but that's just the way it was."
I agreed with that assessment, and then she continued, "I guess what I really need to know is if you want to go on with this. I know I've already asked you that question, but that was before you'd watched it happening, and then had to service Jack, as well as me. What do you think now?"
I took no time whatsoever to give my answer, and replied, "I think it's what we should do. I just can't imagine anything as exciting as last night, and if you want to continue doing it, I do too."
With the sound of finality in her voice, she said, "That settles it, then. Just remember how eager you are now, in case something happens in the future that you may not like."
That ended our conversation, and I cleared the table while she took a leisurely bath. Over and over I recalled every detail about the lovemaking last night, especially my part in it, and it seemed to get more arousing with every image that flashed in my head. I knew I was anxious for the next session, and couldn't understand why Sandie would think I'd have any reservations about doing it again.
It was accepted between us that Jack would join us for dinner again on Saturday, and indeed that became our "schedule," as it were. He and I would chat over the hedge if we were both outside, and I knew he was still mowing our lawn at mid-week, which he had been doing for a few years. If he and my wife had sex during the times when I was at work, I didn't know about it, and I trusted her to not do that unless I were there with her.
The dinner that next Saturday evening was almost an afterthought. As soon as Jack entered our house, Sandie was all over him. She was again wearing her "neighbor-fucking" clothes, as she had come to call them, and the minute Jack saw her dressed like that, he couldn't keep his hands off her. By the time I had served the meal, and called them to the dining room, he had completely undressed her.
The lovers walked to the table arm in arm, and then ate the meal quickly. If you don't think it's arousing to sit at a dinner table with a naked woman, maybe you should try it. I know my cock was stiff all the time, and I'm sure Jack's was also.
When my wife instructed me to serve the dessert, I knew what was expected. I brought a slice of banana cream pie for each of them, and a dish of ice cream for myself. When they saw that, both laughed and Jack commented that I was easy to train.
By the time the dessert had been eaten, they could wait no longer. Sandie told me to leave the dishes, and the three of us hurried upstairs to the bedroom.
Immediately after we entered the room, she ordered me to undress, and then to undress Jack for her. I found myself oddly reluctant to do that, but the arousal I'd been feeling for almost an hour prodded me to follow her instructions. I tried to remove his clothing quickly, but found it to be quite different from removing my own. At last I accomplished my task, and soon there were three naked people in the room, two of them with throbbing erections pointing at a very attractive woman.
Once again, Sandie sank to her knees in front of her lover. She took his penis in her mouth and stimulated it for a couple of minutes, then pulled back and looked at his cock.
She said, still without looking at me, "Come stand beside Jack, sweetie. I want to see if you really are as small as I remember." Again, I was simply her robot to command, and did as she said.
She looked at us, then chuckled, saying in her husky voice, "God, you look even tinier than ever. It's like looking at a little boy's pee-pee standing next to a man's cock, isn't it? I wonder how small you really are. Go get the measuring tape out of my sewing machine, would you, honey?" She then returned her attentions to his member, seeming to shut me out of her world, secure in the knowledge that I'd obey her without question.
Of course, that's just what I did. Her sewing room was next door to the bedroom, and I hurried there to get the thing she wanted, strangely fearful I wouldn't be able to find it. That fear needn't have bothered me, because the tape was laying in a cleared spot on the table, almost as if it had been deliberately placed there to make it easy for me to find. I picked it up and returned to the bedroom.
Her loving attention to Jack's penis had escalated by then, and I longed to be the recipient of such a thing. It was surprising to me that she would take his cock in her mouth, because she had simply refused to ever do such a thing with mine. I had asked her to on several occasions, even resorting to begging a few times. Nothing had ever persuaded her to do it, though, and I knew that what she was so eagerly doing for her lover was something she'd never do for her husband. I tried to find feelings of jealousy, but once again the arousal and excitement I was feeling wouldn't let them appear.
She stopped sucking and licking him as soon as I was once again standing there. Taking the tape from me, she said, "Now let's see if I guessed right. Maybe you really aren't half the size of Jack." She placed the tape along the top of my shaft, with the end at least an inch away from my abdomen. As I hopefully looked at the numbers near the tip of my penis, I saw that it was measuring about 4 1/2" long. Given that she hadn't placed the other end against my body, I was sure the dimension should be closer to 6", but didn't say anything.
She pinched the tape measure at that mark, then held it up in front of us. Jack snickered then, and Sandie joined in, saying, "Maybe 'half' was too generous. Looks like he's even smaller than that."
She then placed the tape on the top of his shaft, and I could see that she was pressing the end very tightly against his pubis. She didn't stretch the tape, but let it lay loosely. Even then, the measurement was not much over 8". When she pinched the tape and showed us the number, though, her finger was at the 9" mark.
She said with satisfaction, "Looks like I was pretty close, doesn't it? What we have here is one pee-pee, and one cock. I like cocks better." They both broke into laughter then, but I was too embarrassed to join in.
After that, the night was almost a carbon copy of what had happened one week before. Jack's penis seemed to enter her more easily this time, almost as if it had been doing that every day during the week, and thereby stretching her pussy to better accommodate him. They both seemed to take slightly longer to reach their orgasms, but both finally did.
My part then began, and it was the same as last week. Again, they fucked a second time while I watch, after which I again performed my duties.
About the only part that was different was when Jack held my legs over my head so my wife could masturbate me while aiming the stuff into my wide-open mouth. As before, he pressed his crotch tightly against me, and began to move his penis in short strokes against my balls.
After I had shot my cum in my mouth, and before Jack could release my legs, Sandie said, "Jack, move your cock a little lower. He was obviously not surprised by that request, and began to move away and down slowly, while still making the thrusts. She kept saying, "Lower. Just a little more."
After about a minute of him doing that, I could feel the head of his cock sliding in my ass crack, and then pushing against the puckered opening. I was sure she was going to tell him to fuck me there, but instead she said, "That's enough for this time, lover. You're sure turning him on, aren't you? I think he'd really like it sometime, don't you?"
The truth was, the sensation of his cock sliding up and down my crack, and then trying to find entrance there, was arousing. I'd never thought such a thing could possibly be true, but it was. Apparently Sandie was also aroused by the sight, and I was sure that particular type of sex would be further investigated in the near future.
After that little interlude, she made me lick him clean once again, and then the lovers went back to what they did best, which was fucking. I went back to what I did best, which was watching. Of course, when they finished fucking, I was through with watching, and became an active participant.
What we did that particular night set the pattern for many Saturday nights to come. There were some slight variations, of course, whenever my wife would think of something new and "kinky" for us to do. On a few occasions, she told me to keeping sucking Jack's cock until he shot his cum down my throat. She seemed to find that more arousing than I did, because to me the taste just wasn't right without her juices mixed in with it. Since that usually meant that Jack would be unable to fuck her anymore during that session, she had me do that particular thing very sparingly.
She also continued to have him rub his cock against my backside, and one time she stopped stroking me before I had an orgasm. She used one of her fingers to wipe up some to the pre-cum that was dripping from my penis, and rubbed it on his glans. When she said to him, "See if you can get it in him, lover," I was sure the time had come when my cherry would be taken. However, it took him a long time to get just the head inside my anus, and she at last said, "That's enough for now. Next time he'll get more." She then stroked me a few more times, aiming my spurts into my mouth. Again I was told to lick him clean before they fucked for the second time that night.
I have never come to terms with how I felt about that penetration. I've never thought of myself as having any homosexual feeling whatsoever, but when I realize that virtually all my stories told of the husband cleaning the cock of his wife's lover, it makes me suspect that was exciting to me because I actually do harbor those feelings. I know that at the time what he did to me seemed to excite me very much, but of course I was in the depths of lust at that time. I just don't know.
After we had been having our regular Saturday-night meetings for about six months, my world collapsed. I will never forget the particular time it happened, and that Sunday lunch with just Sandie and me was my darkest hour.
I seemed just like any other Sunday, and I had prepared a light lunch for the two of us, which we were eating in the breakfast nook as usual. It was a winter day then, and as we sipped our cups of coffee, we watched the birds at the feeder outside the window. All-in-all a very normal day, or anyway as normal as a day could be for a married couple who had spent the previous night fucking and sucking the neighbor.
After a long span of mutual silence, Sandie said quietly, "Honey, we need to talk about something serious." I could tell by the look on her face that whatever she was going to say was indeed serious, because otherwise she would have smiled at me before beginning, as she usually did.
She continued, "I guess I should tell you right up front that Jack and I have become pretty serious about each other. He says he loves me, and I feel the same way about him. That doesn't mean I don't love you any more, because I do. I can't explain that, it's just the way it is. I love both of you, but I need him in a way I don't need you. Can you understand that?"
She paused then, giving me a chance to speak. It was almost impossible for me to say anything, and I tried to organize my thoughts enough to allow me to say something that would make sense. Finally, I stammered, "I . . ., I guess I can understand that. I can't blame you for loving what he gives you, because I know how much you enjoy it. Are you saying you love him in ways other than that?"
Again she talked in a serious tone of voice, replying, "Yes, I do. I love what he does for me in bed, and I love him as a man. Like I said, I still love you, too. It's just that I have pretty strong feelings for him, and we can't just ignore them."
After struggling with my brain for a few seconds, I finally said, "What does it mean for us. Do you want him more than me?" I felt my world would end then if she said that she did, and I'm sure I didn't draw a single breath until I'd heard her answer.
She replied softly, "It's not that I want him more than you. It's just that I want him just as much as I want you. In a perfect world, I'd just marry both of you, and that'd be the end of it. We could go on doing what we've been doing since last summer, and everybody would be happy."
She paused then and sipped her coffee again before continuing. "Since we live in a male-dominated society, and most men can't stand competition for their women, the law won't let me have two husbands. That's just the way it is. I can't change it."
She stopped speaking then, seemingly waiting for me to come up with a solution. My mind was in complete turmoil then, and all I could think of was to ask, "What do you think we should do?"
It was obvious that she'd been thinking of the answer to that question, because she answered with no hesitation, "Do you remember me asking you several months ago, right when you first became a cuckold, if you really wanted to go ahead with it? In fact, I even asked you twice, because I had to be sure. If you remember right, your answer was that you definitely wanted me to keep fucking Jack, and you thought it was the most exciting thing in the whole world. Well, now you see the results. I love Jack, and I want to be his wife. I guess I can't put it any more honestly than that."
I was stunned by that revelation, and again could not utter a sound. She then continued, "Maybe you didn't know that we've been fucking almost every day since this whole thing started. I just can't get enough of his cock, and he feels the same way about my pussy. It's unbelievable to me that any man could get as many hardons as he does, but it seems like he's always ready for me. Believe me, I'm ready for him almost all the time, too. It took me a long time to realize just how much fun fucking can be, and now that I have, I want it to go on forever."
"To make a long story short, I'll tell you that Jack is going to move in with us tomorrow. He'll be sl**ping in the bed with me. You can sl**p in the guest room, or anywhere else you like. We'll still let you come to our room on Saturday nights, so you won't be getting any less sex than you have for a long time now. Jack says that you'll never again be allowed to fuck me, which doesn't matter to me, and shouldn't to you. You haven't done that for a long time, and haven't seemed to miss it."
"We'll try that arrangement for a few months just to see how it works out. Who knows? Maybe we'll decide we don't really love one another, and he'll move back over to his own house. It's also possible that we'll come to love each other even more, and we'll want you to move out. If we do that, it means a divorce, so I'll be free to marry Jack."
Again I was unable to answer, and again she continued, saying, "There is a third option that we've been discussing. Do you want to hear it?"
All I could do was nod my head then, as my mouth was too dry to form any words. She continued, "Jack says you can continue to live with us, even after we're married, on one condition. His condition is that you never again be able to fuck me. You see, he says he wants a c***d, and he wants me to be its mother. His wife was never able to have k**s, and he always wanted them. I've come to realize in the past few months that I also want to have a baby, as long as it's Jack's baby."
"Neither of us want you to be able to get me pregnant. That's why he set that condition, and that's why I agree with it. If you'll agree to it also, then that's the way it'll be, and you can go on living with us. What do you think?"
Since I was literally unable to think at that moment, I gave myself some time by sipping my coffee before answering. I knew for a certainty that my wife and I hadn't had "normal" sexual relations for at least six months, and maybe longer. Surely continuing such an arrangement wouldn't be that much of a hardship if it meant I could stay with her. I said, "I think that would be the best way to do it. All I want is to be with you, and if that means never again having sex with you, then that's the way it'll be. Just don't make me leave. I couldn't live without you."
She smiled lovingly then, before saying, "I was sure you'd feel that way, honey. But it sounds like you don't understand just what Jack and I meant. I said we don't want you to be able to fuck me, not that you'd have to do without fucking me. Do you see the difference?"
Without waiting for a response, she continued, "We got the idea from the stories you'd hidden in the bottom drawer of your desk. I found them a couple of months after the others, and both of us have been reading them in the meantime. Do you know the ones I'm talking about?"
I did know those stories, since I'd read them time after time, and as I realized that what had happened to the husbands in them was what my wife and her lover wanted to happen to me, I felt as if a lightning bolt had struck me. Over and over I recalled the paragraphs that revealed in graphic detail what had been done to the men. When I had read them, they were so very arousing, and they were the best jack-off material I'd ever found. When I saw them in this new light, though, I had second thoughts.
Again I stammered as I tried to understand if she meant what I thought she meant. "Do you mean . . ., you want to . . ., to castrate me, and then cut off my . . ., my penis? Is that what you want to do?"
She must have found my confusion amusing, because she laughed before replying, "Yes, dear heart. That's exactly what I mean. Given the number of stories you'd hidden in your bottom drawer, you must be pretty turned on by that sort of thing. Surely you wouldn't have any objection to ending up like that, would you?"
To tell the truth, at that moment my brain was spinning so fast that I didn't have an opinion one way or the other. It was one thing to fantasize about my sex organs being removed, but quite another to find that my wife and her lover demanded it of me if I wanted to continue to live with them.
Seeing I was unable to say anything, she continued, "Jack wants you to be castrated, too, but I think just the penectomy would be enough. Surely there wouldn't be anything wrong with letting you keep your balls. I think I can talk him over to my viewpoint without too much trouble, if you decide you want to do it."
"I guess the thing is that I know how pitiful your cock is, compared to Jack's. That's why it'd be no great loss to get rid of the thing. It's your tongue that's the best part of you, and I'll admit you're lots better at eating me than he'll ever be. I'm sure it's your enthusiasm for giving me oral sex that makes you so much better at it, and I don't want to do anything that'll change that. I'm afraid that if we have you castrated then you won't be nearly as enthusiastic. That's why I'll let you keep your nuts."
Finally I asked quietly, "How would it be done?"
Apparently she had been prepared for that question, for she answered without hesitation, "Jack and his wife used to vacation in Mexico quite a bit before her illness. They liked to drive down to Tijuana and spend time there, especially during his school's winter break."
"He said one thing they always noticed was the large number of medical clinics close to the border. Most of them were just peddling cheap prescription d**gs, but some of them were real clinics, with doctors and surgeons. Virtually every one of those had signs in the windows advertising their services, and the one that caught his attention, and that he's always remembered, read, "Elective Surgery for Men - by Appointment Only."
"When he and I realized that the third option I told you about was something we'd consider, he called the Chamber of Commerce in Tijuana and got the phone numbers for some of the clinics that offered surgery. He wanted to get several numbers, assuming it'd be difficult to find one that offered what we wanted."
"We decided it'd be best if I did the calling, since I could say that I was looking for a place that would do elective surgery on my husband. Imagine how surprising it was when I called the first place, told the receptionist what I wanted, and she said, 'We can take care of all your needs in that area, ma'am. I'll need to know which type of surgery you prefer before I can give you the details. Were you interested in castration, a penectomy, or both?"
She laughed then as she recalled her stunned reaction to that conversation, then continued, "I guess the receptionist could tell by my stammering around that I was surprised by what she'd said, and she told me they averaged one visit per day from American wives who had brought their men there for that particular type of surgery. She'd had so many calls about it that she had learned to recognize the tone of voice a woman used when she was inquiring about that, and so she usually just cut to the chase to save time."
"I decided to be equally concise, and told her I wanted a penectomy for my husband, and would like further information about the procedure. She said they had a brochure that illustrated the procedure, and also explained the recovery process, as well as the fees they charged. I gave her our mailing address, and she promised to mail one of the brochures right away. It came a few weeks ago, and Jack and I have read through it several times. Would you like to see it?"
I seemed to be incapable of speech then, and just nodded my head in answer. That she had been prepared for my acceptance was shown when she opened a drawer in the table and pulled out a glossy brochure with a photograph of the clinic on the cover. As she placed it on the tabletop in front of me, I saw the title was, "Elective Surgeries," and under the photo was a single sentence, "Castration and Penectomy Explained in Detail."
She reached across the table to open the brochure to a well-thumbed page, telling me that was the one that discussed what was involved in removing my penis. Through disbelieving eyes, I saw several illustrations that showed the steps in the removal process, and then on the next page a full-page photograph of a man's crotch after it had healed. His pubic hair had been shaved to give a clear view, and the little hole above his sac was all that remained to show where his penis used to be attached.
I continued to stare at the picture, trying to reconcile what I saw there with what Sandie had been telling me. Through ringing ears, I heard her saying, "I think the photo of that guy is just about the most exciting thing I've ever seen. Every time I look at those drawings, and then that picture, I think what it would be like to stand there and watch that being done to you. It's just about the only thing I've thought of ever since that came in the mail."
She then got right to the point, asking, "So, what do you think? Do you want to stay with me bad enough to do that?" She didn't say anything else, merely placed one hand under her chin and stared directly at me. It was obvious that the decision was up to me, and she had said everything she was going to until I'd told her what I wanted to do.
As I considered the options she'd laid out for me, I knew deep in my heart that my decision was already made. There was simply no way I could live without her, and if continuing to do so meant losing something that was unimportant to our relationship, then it would have to go. I answered simply, "Yes. I want to do it."
Her eyes misted over at that point, and she hurried around to my side of the table and sat on the bench close to me. She hugged and kissed me then, something she hadn't done for a long time. Finally she cleared her throat, then said softly, "Thank you, honey. You'll never know just how scared I was that you'd just choose to leave. I love you a lot, and I don't want to have you out of my life. Thank you."
It was as if a great weight had been lifted from my shoulders, and I knew my decision was the right one. In my heart I knew I could adjust to life without a penis, and maybe in some ways it would actually make things better for me. Maybe if the thing were not there to control my life, I would become more caring, more loving, toward my wife. At least, that was my hope.
My head seemed to be clear once again, and I asked, "So, what do we do now?"
She answered, "I knew deep in my heart what your decision would be. I called the clinic two weeks ago to schedule your appointment. We'll drive down there the middle of next month, which should give us plenty of time to finalize all the arrangements."
"Your appointment is for January 17, which I thought would be a special day for you." She smiled mischievously at me as I caught the implications of that date. It was my birthday, and I would be 36 years old then.
When she saw I understood, she continued, "I thought it would be a good time for you to start your new life. You were born on that date with that useless hunk of meat between your legs, and it's fitting that you'll be reborn 36 years later to your new life without it."
She went on, "Jack and I will be married in a chapel in Tijuana, where they aren't all that picky about how many husbands a woman has. The wedding's scheduled for the day before your surgery, so you can be there to give me away to him. We'll spend that night in a motel, and you can use your imagination about what we'll do."
"The next day, we'll take you to the clinic. The nurse will get you shaved all nice and smooth down there, and then I'll lead you to the operating room. Jack and I will strap you to the operating table, which I think is kind of sexy, don't you? I asked the receptionist if they'd allow me to do the cutting, and she said that was the usual way it was done. She said the large majority of wives want to do that, so they're set up to let it happen like that."
"After they knock you out to do the repair work, Jack and I will leave for Baja. We're going to spend a week on our honeymoon down there, while you're recovering in the clinic. We'll pick you up on our way home, and after that we'll be just one big happy f****y."
There seemed to be nothing for me to say, even if I had been capable of formulating a response. It was apparent that my life had been planned for me, and I found it easy to just slip into the comfortable cocoon where someone else made all the decisions. I guess that's why I made no objections when she then told me of other changes that would be made in the near future.
"After we get back, we're going to put both houses on the market. We've decided to move somewhere else where no one knows us, so Jack and I can live openly as husband and wife. We think Portland would be a good choice, since your company has a branch office there. You once said you could transfer there anytime you wanted, so that should make it pretty simple."
"I want Jack to get me pregnant right away. Now that we've decided to have a baby, I want it to happen just as soon as possible. When I'm close to giving birth, there'll be an important job for you to do. Expectant mothers aren't supposed to have sex starting six weeks before birth, until six weeks after. During that time, you'll need to keep Jack happy for me. I know how much it turned you on when Jack put just the head of his cock in you, so you should really like it when he fucks you for real. Plus, you'll have lots of chances to suck him dry. I'll bet you get more sex then than ever before in your life. I think it'll be pretty exciting to watch you two guys going at it. It'll be fun for me to watch, for a change, don't you think?"
She then gave me a chance to add anything I cared to, by saying,"Well, that's how we have it laid out. Can you think of anything else we need to do?"
I really and truly couldn't. It seemed clear they'd considered their plans carefully, and I was just glad that I'd been included in them. It seemed so easy and comfortable to just say, "Whatever you think is best for us, dear."
Posted by magas911 7 months ago Views: