The Other Men In My Life Ch1

I couldn’t believe my eyes as what I thought I saw was my whole world falling apart, or rather my marriage. Rhys and I had been married only eight months. I knew things had become tough with the extra work he had been f***ed to take on, and I accepted the extra stress as the main reason behind our bedroom problems, but not this. “NOT THIS!” I screamed at the filth on the monitor.

I can’t fully remember how I came across the stuff as I shopped for a new outfit for our up and coming city break to London. With all the extra hours Rhys had been doing at the office we deserved this break, he definitely deserved it. We needed it, our marriage needed it.

As I opened one file, I was quickly led to another and another and another of my husband’s dirty filth. Porn! All this time I worried about him, tried to relieve the stress. I tried romantic nights, massages, bubble baths, I dressed up for him, suggested role play, you name it I tried it, or so I thought. So it was here that I discovered how my loving, faithful husband relieved his stress.

I felt humiliated, rejected, and worthless even, as I scrolled through clip after clip of different women being fucked in all sorts of positions, often by more than one guy. All the clips appeared amateur, these women allowed themselves to be filmed and posted on the net for other men, my husband to satisfy his needs instead of using me, his wife.

Then there were the endless photos he had stored of “hot wives” and “shared slut wives.” They appeared to be couples posting themselves or worse, husbands posting their wives with other men.

But just when I thought he couldn’t hurt me anymore I discovered a blog. It was my husband’s blog, and it was all about me. There were several photos of me from different occasions.

With my hand over my mouth I felt the tears sliding down my cheeks, I wanted to scream, go mad, but I couldn’t. It felt as if a dagger had just been thrust into my heart.

I recognised two photographs from the holiday where Rhys had proposed to me. It was Cyprus and my twenty-fourth birthday. The one photo showed me in a low cut yellow dress; Rhys loved it due the deep valley of cleavage it showed. He had posted it along with another one of me in a white bikini. I remembered the bikini but I didn’t remember this particular shot. The white fabric appeared see-thru, the close up shot clearly showed my nipples protruding through the wet bikini, and then there was my “camel toe” as one blogger called it.

Rhys, the man I trusted and loved more than anyone else in the world had been posting personal photos of me online for perverts to look at and comment on. I had been rated out of ten and commented on by hundreds of men. Although the comments had nothing but praise for me it still hurt deeper than anything. Next were photos of me in my wedding dress, another of me in my bridal lingerie.

There were more bikini shots, this time from our honeymoon. By now I could see the bloggers were begging for nudity, as if Rhys had deliberately led them on. I hoped he hadn’t, preyed he hadn’t, that would be the ultimate betrayal.

He had! The bastard had done it. There on the next page were two pictures of me topless and another of me naked on our honeymoon bed.

Leaving the computer on, I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of wine. I gulped it down before pouring another and lighting a cigarette. The cigarette seemed to calm me some as I tried to clear my head about what to do.
This was it I thought, eight months of marriage and out. My father warned me he was no good, said a thirty year old man had no business chasing after a twenty year old girl. But that’s what he had done, and I fell for it, fell head over heels in love with him. Three and half years later we were engaged, eighteen months after that we were married and now at the age of twenty- seven I was facing a divorce.

That night he came home we had a blazing row. He accused me of over reacting which then led to several cups and plates being thrown in his direction. But once I cried out all my tears and stopped shouting we sat and drank wine. We still rowed and we both got angry but it was civilised and he began to explain the porn photographs and why he had done the blog. He explained the porn unintentionally led to the blog, and then guys begged for photos and he couldn’t resist.

As I listened to him confessing his fantasies I felt some relief that it was fantasy and that at least he hadn’t been cheating on me. But the blog, the photos, personal photos of me on the internet without my permission were hard to accept. I admit that I did become slightly aroused listening to some of the comments men had written about me, but still.

Some were saying how beautiful and sexy they thought I was. Most of the men gave detailed and graphic descriptions of what they wanted to do to me while Rhys watched. I think Rhys sensed my arousal as he poured more wine and described how he longed to watch another man, a stranger seduce me. He wanted more than anything, he said, to see another man touching me as I half heartedly fended him off. He went into great detail of how he became harder than ever imaging these strangers stripping me naked, groping my tits and fingering my pussy. He wanted to watch me as I succumbed to my seducer, sank to my knees and took the strangers cock into my mouth before he fucked me.

It was near impossible not to become aroused, but thankfully he couldn’t see my erect, aching nipples or smell my soaking wet snatch as I fought hard to keep a stern and pissed off look on my face. And I was pissed off, what if one of those men knew me? Recognised me from the photos? Did he think about that?
Rhys admitted it had crossed his mind but he felt sure it wouldn’t come to that. “You’re an idiot!” I shouted at him. “More like your cock and sordid fantasies got the better of you!” I screamed.

“Look, Sophie,” he started before pausing, “I fucked up. I have a problem ok, I admit it. Maybe I need help or something but the fact is I have never been more aroused than when I think about you with other men.”

“But I’m your bl**dy wife, Rhys!” I scolded him. “You’re supposed to love me and protect me not flaming share me with the world.” I lit a cigarette and shook my head in disbelief.

“So where do we go from here?” He asked, sadly.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged, “I really don’t know.”

“I love you, Sophie,” he said grabbing my hand, “I love you more now than on the day we wed. I’ll get help; I’ll do anything to fix this I promise.”

I looked at my husband, and for the first time that evening I could see the regret in his eyes. He knew he had hurt me, disrespected me, and broken my trust.

This I guess was the first test of our marriage. I honestly did not know if we would survive it at this point.

Over the next few days and weeks the tension eased considerably between us. Rhys knew his addiction was not healthy, not only for our marriage but for him as a person. But I too realised that these fantasies would always be his fantasises in one form or another. As much as I wished I could, I knew he couldn’t be re-programmed to think differently. I didn’t want to sl**p with other men for his needs, but I also knew that I had to find some way of letting this into our sex life.

I felt a little guilty with the next step I took, but if this was going to work then I felt I had no choice. Rhys had given me no choice. In secret, I signed up to a free swinger’s website that I found after searching for information on the subject. I filled out the profile giving a false name and location but I decided, for no real reason, to describe my looks and personality exactly as they were, even putting my marital status as married.

On completing the profile I suddenly realised I had to upload a profile picture. Reading the rules it appeared the site was determined to weed out false profiles and time wasters. I had second thoughts as I only wanted to chat with couples and men who shared this fantasy with my husband. Then I remembered the photos of me that Rhys had uploaded on his blog, so I searched our photos and decided to upload the one of me in the yellow dress.

Once my profile was uploaded and fully active the messages were flying in faster than I could reply to them. Most were just stuff like:

“Hi, fancy a fuck?” And then leave me their mobile numbers.

I quickly deleted these as my profile description specifically stated that “I was married with a husband who wanted to share me with other men, looking for genuine couples and single men to speak with.” I quickly realised this was going to be hard work.

In amongst the dumb messages I found some charming ones where the messenger displayed some intelligence and manners. I accepted those friend requests and replied to their messages. I fully explained my situation to a few people who appeared very genuine and sincere before one guy named Tommy, asked me to chat on MSN with him.

Tommy’s profile and photos were nice and I thought he looked very sexy and handsome. He said he was single, twenty years older than me, making him forty-seven, and he didn’t live too far away. He also confessed to sl**ping with cheating wives and cuckold couples. He also had verifications on his profile page from other members who he had shared these experiences.

I looked through his “friends only” photos and I was impressed with his body, especially what with what lay between his legs, or rather what stood between his legs. He had ten years on my husband and he looked ten years younger and fitter.

Then I paused for a moment. I wasn’t here for that, and to speak on MSN would mean giving him my e-mail address. Noting my long pause he sent me his e-mail address and explained that many profiles such as mine were really men posing as their wives. My stomach churned. Had Rhys done such a thing? Was I on some other site just like this one? I thought about that blog and became angry again.
Then I remembered, I needed to understand this and get my head around it, otherwise what future did Rhys and I have?

I replied to his email and requested to be his messenger friend. Talking through the swinger’s site until we were up and running on MSN, I felt a sudden streak of excitement shoot straight up my spine as he told me to shut down the site as he wanted me all to himself on MSN.

We spoke a few sentences and I felt very flattered as he commented on my photos. I forgot about the photos I had on MSN. I only used it to speak to close friends; I had no strangers on there so I had no problem with them seeing those photos.

My MSN profile picture was of me on my wedding day and I had some others of Rhys and me. There weren’t any inappropriate ones, but still, I just carelessly gave this sexy stranger some personal information.

After about an hour of logging onto the computer I finally got down to asking the question I came here for, and I had two hours before Rhys would get home from work.

“What is it about a man wanting to watch his wife getting intimate with another man? Why is this so arousing?” I asked.

“I’m on the other side of the fence; I’m the bull rather than the cuck. Don’t know if I could share any future girlfriend or wife, but even the cucks can’t explain it.” He replied.

I explained what Rhys had done and I how I felt about it and he was very supportive and gave me some sound and cautious advice before jokingly, or at least I think it was a joke, offering to “help us out.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think I could do it.” I replied, chuckling at the monitor.
“Don’t think you could do it? So you have considered it then? Thinking you couldn’t do something suggests that there is a possibility? He said.

I could just imagine his cheeky grin. “Call it a mistake in my vocabulary then.

I meant to say I won’t do it!” I replied with a kiss on the end to let him know I wasn’t annoyed.

“Being serious, Sophie, I think it’s a combination of jealousy and lust that matches no other. Or perhaps it is just the thrill of getting to see the woman he loves, the woman he married, getting satisfied by someone new and thrilling, a stranger perhaps?” He said.

I considered his words and after a while I logged off promising to remain friends with him. I had no plans to correspond with him regularly or even at all if I’m honest, but I remained polite as he had done with me.

Was I convinced that I had my answer? Not really. Rhys had sort of said the same thing as he struggled to explain it to me the other night. Maybe there was no real answer. No real explanation, only theories from the experts who study human sexual behaviour.

Whatever the answer, it was clear that my husband fantasised about sharing me with other men and it was not likely to change anytime soon.

So, after speaking to Tommy on MSN, Rhys and I headed to London for our planned break with an extra spring in our steps. Whilst swinging and cuckolding weren’t on the agenda, having a good time certainly was.

We did speak more leading up to the trip as I didn’t want it coming up and ruining the weekend. I accepted his fantasy and he accepted it would remain a fantasy.

The Friday we arrived in London we checked into our hotel, quickly got showered and then headed for the tube to see the sights. We had a lovely day and it felt like our honeymoon all over again as we cuddled and held hands around the city.
That night we ate in the hotel and instead of going out Rhys suggested we order a bottle of champagne and make up for lost time. I smiled and readily agreed.

As we sipped the champagne and chatted I felt the warmth in Rhys return. I felt loved again. I knew he hadn’t stopped loving me but I needed to feel it, feel it was still there burning fierce as ever.

We hadn’t had sex since this had blown up, and we hadn’t had much sex before either, so I felt very nervous. Rhys sensed my uneasiness and moved to settle me. He gently spun me round so my back was to him as he brushed my hair aside and gently kissed the back of my neck. I closed my eyes enjoying the moment as he tenderly moved to the sides of my neck. Moving my hands behind my back I reached for his belt and began to unbuckle him. With his pants finally undone I teasingly slid a hand inside his boxers and smiled as I felt his cock harden against my touch. It had been a long time since my touch wielded such powers and I suddenly felt wanted again.

Rhys whispered in my ear and nibbled my ear lobe as I freed his rock hard cock and began tugging on it. Taking the straps of my dress between his fingertips he gently and deliberately slid the thin black lace down my arms, not stopping until he had pulled it all the way down to reveal a matching black strapless bra. I gasped at his tenderness and felt the moisture leaking into my black lace panties.

Reaching for the sides of his pants I managed to shuffle them down over his waist, but no sooner had I heard them landing on the floor I felt his hands at the front of my chest, eagerly fumbling for the clasp between my firm breasts. As my bra joined his pants on the floor he roughly tugged my dress down my slender body before cupping and massaging my breasts, as if it were the first time he had ever touched them.

His hands were warm and soft and I watched them as I looked down at where he groped. I once again reached for his cock, stroking him gently, stopping occasionally to sc**** a nail along his sensitive shaft. He shuddered before sliding one of his hands into my black panties. Another shuddering groan escaped his lips, this time as I cupped his balls, and he felt how wet I was, how soaking wet I was for him.

I turned to him and we kissed passionately, holding each other tightly. Rhys guided me towards the king-size bed and gently led me onto it before running his hands up and down my body. Every sensitive part he touched responded as if being charged electrically. Then my back arched as he unexpectedly grabbed my panties and yanked them off. His roughness f***ed me to lift my back and gasp as I felt the cool air of the room clash against the heat radiating from my wet, slick cunt. I was gagging by now and he knew it.

“Fuck me.” I gasped. “Fuck me hard now, I need you inside me.” I moaned.

Rhys slipped his hand between my legs and they fell open for him, letting him feel all around my inner thigh as he gently brushed past my soaking wet hole, without touching it at first. He then brushed past again and again, more f***efully each time, teasing my very sensitive clit with gentle rubs of a stray finger. He slid his fingers up and down my wet lips as he rubbed harder and harder on my clitoris.

“Fuck!” I screamed, “Just slide your finger in, stop ... ohhh fuck ... stop teasing me.” I pleaded.

“Just think, honey,” he started to say.

“Yes?” I replied waiting for what he was going to say.

“I want you to imagine that I’m not your husband, I want you to picture another man. Ok?”

“Yes ... ok.” I grunted. I hadn’t really grasped what he was saying I just wanted to agree with him and get fucked.

“I’m sat in the corner ok, baby. I’m looking out for you as this stranger strokes your pussy. Is he good? Does he stroke your pussy the way you like?” He asked softly.

“Mmmmm ... oh fuck yeah ... mmm oh fuck me, Rhys just fuck me.” I pleaded once more.

“I’m not Rhys!” He spat without slowing his hand movements. “I’m not your hubby, slut! I’m the guy you teased at the bar, remember?” He said, in a demanding tone.”

“Yes! Fucking yes! Now please fuck me!” I screamed at him.

He leant in to kiss my breasts and whispered softly. “Seriously, Sophie, I want you to picture whoever you want, don’t tell me who he is if you don’t want to but picture him. Can you do that for me, Sophie?”

“Yes, I will.”

“There’s a good wife,” he said still sucking on my nipple, “who is the guy you imagine with his fingers all over your pussy as you beg him to enter you ... hey ... who is it that’s making you wet, Sophie?”

“That waiter ... the one at the restaurant.” I confessed truthfully.

“Yes he liked looking down your top didn’t he? His name was Angelo. Tell him, Sophie, tell Angelo what you need while your husband sits in the corner wanking his cock, watching his slut wife.”

It was too much. I was about to cum and he knew it. “Fuck me Angelooooooo! ...ohhh ... fuck ... yes I’m coming.” I wailed and screeched as he rammed two fingers hard up inside me. As the name Angelo slipped from my lips I felt two fingers roughly enter my swollen pussy, making me cum hard as they sc****d, dug and rubbed the roof of my vagina.

Rhys gave me no chance to recover as he very quickly positioned the tip of his cock against my pulsating pussy and rubbed f***efully up and down the lips, coating his cock head with my fresh pussy juice.

“Yes, look at you bitch all open and displayed for another man, a stranger you just met. You want my cum, slut? You want Angelo’s hard cock inside your married cunt, fucking you hard as your hubby watches. Tell me, slut, tell me how much you want Angelo’s cock.”

“Fuck ... me ... ohhh you bastard.” I grinned and moaned as he slid his solid cock all the way inside me.

I was too wet for him to fully fill me up and make me scream so I rubbed my clit as usual and bucked against him as he fucked me for all he was worth. I told him what he wanted to hear, screaming Angelo as I reached my climax and for a moment I did picture him as I remembered his cute eyes peering down my dress as he served us wine. I could picture him now, peeling off my dress, forcing me to suck his cock before he finally enters me.

That night we fucked again in the shower and again in the bed. Never had we had sex more than once in a night. But every time I got sopping wet, Rhys would bring his fantasy into it. I didn’t mind as it got him harder and hornier than ever, I see he wasn’t lying after all. The following morning I was too sore to fuck again, but as Rhys sided up to me with his cock hard and eager I offered to suck him off instead.

“No.” He said. “I want you to wank my cock slowly and tell me a story.”

“What story?” I asked puzzled, before quickly realising.

“Tell me about the time you lost your virginity. I want to know how it happened.” He said.

I giggled and took his throbbing cock in my hand. I stroked him gently as he settled back and closed his eyes. Luckily for him my first time was a pleasurable time. So I told him the truth and nothing but the truth.

After blowing his load all over my hand and the bed we showered, got dressed and headed for breakfast. Today was Saturday and we had a lot to do before tonight’s Dirty Dancing show at the West End.

I had booked to have my hair and nails done in the afternoon so we spent the morning shopping for clothes and in particularly a new outfit that I could wear to the show. I had brought something nice just in case, but this was London so I wanted something special and brand new. I enjoyed trying on different outfits for my husband as he got turned on watching me parade in front of him and the male assistant.

“Shame he was gay.” He joked, as I shook my head at him and chuckled.

Eventually we picked a nice dark red strapless dress that hugged my figure beautifully. I felt like a film star in it as its expensive fabric showed off my pert rear and breasts. Without a bra, I loved the classy and not slutty way the dress pushed my bust securely up and outwards, giving an inviting view of my cleavage, which many men in the theatre that night took full advantage of.
The show was fantastic. I loved every minute of it and despite not being a huge fan of the film, Rhys enjoyed it to. It was only ten-thirty when we left the show so we headed into a bar for a few drinks.

Once we got back to the hotel lobby we decided to take advantage of the late night bar as I had a light buzz in my head that wanted more alcohol. I felt good, like being on holiday.

Whilst sipping back more wine we struck up a conversation with a salesman who happened to sell wine. He was a nice and very funny man with his cockney accent. He was much older than us at fifty-nine, but that didn’t stop him making us laugh with his jokes and crazy stories about the East End, where he was born and raised. You would have thought he was about to turn thirty not sixty the way he was going on.

After an hour or so, and a few more glasses of red wine, the bar closed and he asked us if we fancied sampling some of the his wine up on his balcony.

“A few sample bottles here and there don’t hurt anyone.” He joked.

I was unsure as we had to check out by eleven the following morning, but since we were having such a good time with him I allowed Rhys to twist my arm.
His room was very similar to ours but he had a balcony. At an extra cost of a hundred pounds a night the hotel could keep it I thought, although it did look lovely overlooking the city.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” I asked our host.

“Knock yourself out gorgeous,” he replied, “just use the balcony.”

Stepping out onto the balcony I realised for the first time just how d***k I was as the cool summer breeze hit me in the face. Lighting my cigarette I gazed out at the bright lights of London and smiled. It had been a lovely weekend and all thoughts of mine and Rhys’ problems couldn’t be further away as he joined me on the balcony with two glasses of red wine.

The sales guy, who I’m ashamed to say I can’t remember his name, did explain about the wines and their origins but I didn’t really pay attention. I couldn’t think straight after a few more glasses.

I mainly stayed out on the balcony with the breeze, smoking cigarettes and sipping my wine while Rhys and the sales guy walked back and forth talking about their work, football and drink.

I wasn’t sobering up, but as I wasn’t really drinking anymore either I felt I wasn’t getting worse. My husband on the other hand was becoming very d***k, but as he was really enjoying the company of the sales guy I said nothing.

Unsure if it was just my imagination, due to the amount of wine pumping round my bl**d stream, I felt I was being constantly watched by our host. He was always polite and friendly and the looks he gave me in the bar were no different than any other girl gets from a guy. But here in his room his eyes appeared to linger longer than normal as he spoke to my husband. When he came near me he spoke to my cleavage or legs rather than my face, something I hate in a man.

Maybe he was d***k? Maybe I was too d***k? Maybe it was time for bed?

“Oh come on, Sophie, we got plenty of time.” Rhys moaned when I asked if we could leave.

“Yeah, come on, Sophie,” the sales guy chipped in, “you need another drink, darling. You stop drinking you fall asl**p.” He went on.

As the sales guy poured me a large glass of Rose and handed it to me my husband became obnoxious.

“The last time my wife had Rose she gave me a blowjob at her friends party.” He sniggered.

He clearly didn’t notice my piercing gaze as he went on.

“Remember, honey, it was New Years Eve and you let me cum on you’re ...”

“Ok, Rhys!” The sales guy jumped in. “I can’t let you embarrass your beautiful wife.” He then leaned closer and whispered so only I could hear. “However tempting it is.”

I smiled meekly and sipped my wine as I sat on the side of the bed facing the open balcony door. Rhys apologised blaming the wine before he walked over to the balcony door, shut it and then sat in the big chair in the corner of the room.

Saying nothing the sales guy sat next to me on the bed and complimented me on my dress. Being taller, I noticed his eyes gazing straight into my cleavage as I turned to thank him.

“You’re very welcome, gorgeous.” He said, taking a gulp of his wine without removing his eyes from my chest. “Your wife is very beautiful, Rhys.”

“Amen to that.” He replied, raising his glass as if to toast me.

Rhys didn’t seem to notice the sales guy as he continued with his overly polite but respectful compliments. I wasn’t quite sure what shocked me more when the guy casually lifted the pendant on my necklace with his fingers, my husband for simply watching him as he continued his conversation about our weekend, or the sales guy for touching it?

Seeing the look of shock on my face the sales guy smirked and asked me about the pendant. I explained briefly its f****y history and he seemed genuinely interested as he listened with his eyes looking into mine. I had always felt proud about the pendants history, and if I’m honest I felt a little turned on by his reaction. I couldn’t explain it; it was just that for the first time he took interest in me as a person.

He continued complimenting me as his fingers let go of my necklace, and then he traced the tips of his fingers across my collar bone and down my arm.

I looked at my husband for help, a response to what this man was doing, but he sat watching as he slouched in the chair. His eyes appeared half open before I turned back to the sales guy and looked with pleading eyes for him to stop.

He began to tell me how beautiful I was, that he wished he had married someone as pretty and sexy as me when he was younger. I wanted to tell him to stop touching me but I couldn’t find the words as he was being so nice and tentative.

I blamed the drink and my husband for my remaining still and silent as he moved his hand round to my back and began tracing the tips of his fingers very slowly up my spine. It tickled and sent sparks of electricity throughout my body, and I closed my eyes briefly before opening them again to look at my husband. His position hadn’t changed and my silent cry for help was ignored again, but I knew he was watching, he wasn’t feigning sl**p.

By now the fingertips of his left hand had reached the top of my dress, below my shoulder blades. He delicately took the small zip between his fat fingers and held it for a moment. I looked up at him and he smiled before leaning down, and he gently kissed the top of my shoulder and arm.

It suddenly felt very seductive as I looked once again at my husband for help. He was now sat up with a drink in one hand and the other rubbing his crotch. He must have noticed that my face was not a happy one. Inside my head I was screaming for help, for this man to stop, for my husband to stop this madness. But my body was betraying me, this man was waking my senses, and then I felt it.

Slowly, very, very slowly I felt the zip being pulled down my back. His kisses remained gentle and sensitive but as the zip inched down, so his kisses worked their way up my arm, onto my shoulder and then up to my neck. I looked at my husband, still searching for a way out of this, and then I felt the tightness of the dress around my body begin to ease as the zip was being pulled down. I could feel his fingers as the zip finally reached my lower back. I looked down at my chest and saw that the dark red fabric now sat loosely on top of my breasts. One sudden movement, one quick jolt and I would bare my breasts.

I waited anxiously with my eyes now closed, waiting for the next move, hoping he would stop and I would suddenly wake from this erotic nightmare. That my husband would come to his senses and drag me out of here.

Then I felt his free hand touch my face and my eyes opened as he turned my head towards his and he kissed me on the lips. I could taste the wine on his breath and it tasted nice as my lips parted and allowed his tongue into my mouth. For a moment all thoughts of my husband evaporated as we sat there for a short while kissing. His tongue was soft and gentle at first, but then it became more passionate and I knew the gusset of my panties was getting wet.

I sat there, arms at my sides, submissively kissing a man I didn’t even know. I was turned on but nervous, and then thoughts of my husband watching us returned and I quickly pulled away. I looked at Rhys who now had his pants undone with a hand inside rubbing himself. I can’t describe how I felt at that moment; I wanted to cry as my body pulled me in two different directions.

Suddenly it all seemed too late as I felt my dress fall from my body stopping at my waist. Gasps from the sales guy and my husband filled the room instantly. I looked again at my husband and watched as he took out his rock hard cock and started stroking it, as if not acknowledging me as his wife. I felt a tear run down my cheek.

“It’s ok, Sophie, I won’t hurt you.” The sales guy whispered as he kissed my neck and wiped away the tear.

“Please ... I can’t do this ... I don’t want to do this ... I’m married” I started to say, finally finding the courage to speak, but not quite enough to walk out.

He must have sensed my emotions I thought, but then he cupped one of my breasts and gently started caressing it before moving onto the other one. Still kissing my neck he worked his way up to my cheek all the while caressing and massaging my breasts.

This time I turned my head without his help and welcomed him into my mouth. I tried to block out the morality of what was happening to me and concentrated on how much I was enjoying the kiss. He was a great kisser, better than my husband, softer, gentler and very sensual.

His gentle touch was short lived though, as a few moments of kissing passionately had turned his caresses into f***eful gropes, taking one breast and then the other into his sweaty palms as his kisses slowly turned to pants for breath.

He guided me backwards gently until I was lying flat on my back on the bed; his hands never left my sensitive and swollen breasts.

“God, you’re beautiful.” He said raggedly.

His panting turned to grunts of excitement as he drew one hand away and slid it straight down and under into the crumpled mess that was my dress around my waist. He fumbled under the dress before finding the thin elastic band of my matching red panties. And when he found it he f***ed his tongue deep into my mouth like some crazed maniac.

Knowing where his hand was about to go I felt a sudden wave of excitement wash over me, and then he slid his hand inside my panties, cupped my pussy and started massaging. He teased me for a few moments before he finally slid a finger, quickly followed by another two, into my body. He finger fucked me slow and deep, as far as his fingers could reach.

His probing fingers f***ed me to breathe heavily and I kissed him hard, thrusting my tongue into his mouth. I bucked my hips slowly, matching the gentle rhythm of his fingers as my need grew closer and closer. He took me right to the brink of orgasm before suddenly pulling his hand and then head away from me. I looked up at him desperately, my eyes pleading for him to carry on and make me come.

He stared at me like some sort of possessed a****l and smiled. I could see how much he wanted me and I think I returned the same look, wanting him to fuck me there and then on his hotel bed in front of my husband.

I remained silently still, but for my exposed breasts rising and falling as I panted for breath. He stood up and I watched as he unbuttoned his shirt and threw it on the floor. Our eyes never left each other’s as I continued to watch him undress.

He wasn’t a handsome man with his balding head and fat beer belly, or in his case wine belly. He had that constant red, bl**d vessel popped, face look a person gets when they drink too much alcohol in their lives. He wasn’t particularly hairy, thank god, but the lack of it didn’t improve him either. He was average height I’d say, slightly shorter than my husband but much fatter and unhealthy looking. But however he looked, I found myself d***k and extremely turned on. I would deal with the reasons why when I had a clear head.

Out the corner of my eye I noticed my husband was now sat up in the chair, trousers around his ankles still stroking his cock slowly, as if saving his load until the end. He could have cum already for all I knew.

My thoughts of my husband were quickly quashed as this, near sixty year old naked sales guy grabbed my dress and yanked it down my legs. His tugs were so urgent and f***eful that I thought he would damage the expensive material, as he also pulled me closer to the edge of the bed. We both giggled c***dishly before he finally pulled it off, leaving me in just my soaking wet red lace panties and red heels.

With my dress gone I could see his cock properly for the first time. I had no idea if it was big as I hadn’t felt it when we were kissing. My husband is an average six inches with a nice girth and the sales guy looked not much bigger, maybe an inch but no more than that. His cock was also shaped like a banana, curving upwards.

I gasped when I saw it and tried to hide my excitement as I looked and appreciated his odd shaped cock. I had seen sex toys shaped like that for a ladies g-spot, but I had never seen or heard of someone having a cock like it in real life.

“Sit up and come here, Sophie.” He said firmly.

I did as he asked and more. I took his cock firmly in my tiny hand and instantly noticed that it was longer and fatter than my husband’s. Smiling at the shape again I stroked it.

“Fuck, yeah.” He gasped, lifting onto his tippy toes and then back down again.
I watched my red polished nails as my hand worked his cock back and forth; I loved the way my hand curved up and down his cock as I stroked him. Not being too tall the sales guy reached down and cupped my breasts before rolling my nipples between his finger and thumb. I felt my pussy start to pulsate as more juice seeped into my panties. I was so turned on I stood up and removed my panties with one hand, whilst still stroking his cock. As I bent down to pull my panties over my knees and shoes he jerked forwards poking me in the face with his cock. I looked at him and smiled but he continued jabbing at me to open my mouth.

After removing my panties I sat back down on the edge of the bed, ignoring my husband’s movements in the corner of the room and started to rub slowly and hard at my clit. I opened my legs wide and the sales guy commented on my shaven cunt. I felt incredibly hot and dirty when he called it that and I began to rub vigorously.

“Come on, Sophie, suck my cock.” He hissed, still jabbing his cock towards my face.

“No, I ... I wont ... do that.” I moaned keeping him at bay as I concentrated on my impending orgasm.

As I hadn’t planned anything I decided at this point I would bring us both off. Once we had both climaxed we would suddenly see sense and perhaps feel ashamed and go our separate ways. Despite enjoying everything he had done to me I never had any intentions of letting him fuck me or use my mouth. The man was bald, fat, and old enough to be both my father and grandfather.

“What are you doing?” He said in frustration, “Put it in your fucking mouth I want to feel those lips around my cock.”

“Oh fuck yeah!” I moaned at his words.

“You like that bitch?” He went on. “You like having a dirty old man telling you to suck his cock while you rub your cunt, your dirty stinking cunt!”

“Ohhhhhh fucking hell ... ohhh gods help me!” I screamed as my orgasm gripped me tighter than anything I had ever experienced previously whilst masturbating.

I then let go of his cock and fell back onto the bed, my body was tingling and burning as if it were on fire. With my eyes closed and my body trembling I suddenly felt someone between my legs spreading them wide apart. I opened my eyes to find the sales guy, my mind had gone blank, and he was there on his knees licking my pussy. I was so wet I could hear the slurping sounds as he lapped up the juices from my orgasm. It felt amazing. My body arched and I grabbed a pillow to cover my face as his tongue probed inside the folds of my hole, licking and teasing my lips. He obviously knew what he was doing I thought, as he stayed away from my overly sensitive clit. One touch of that now and he would ruin it all. I always found the sensation after orgasm unbearable.

My eyes were rolling around my head so fast I had to close them and try to calm myself down. I couldn’t keep still but the sales guy had a tight grip on my hips, legs over his shoulders with the heels of my shoes digging into his back. He wasn’t letting me go anywhere. My skin was still hot and tingly and I felt sweaty all over.

Once my orgasm had subsided I could concentrate on the red hot tongue that was probing my pussy. I forgot where I was again as he slid his fingers straight inside me and started fucking me harder than before. In and out, in and out he went never slowing down as he matched the speed with his tongue.

Then it returned. The burning hot fever deep inside me suddenly coursed through my body without warning. There was no slow build up. As he ploughed and lapped at my pussy with his fingers, I suddenly shuddered into another explosive orgasm, practically trapping his fingers inside me. My pussy pulsated violently, clamping hard around his fat digits as my hot sticky juice squirted onto his tongue and bed sheets.

Once my body relaxed the waves of pleasure drifted away. I had never felt so light and relaxed before. My body sank into the large mattress and I removed the pillow from my face to allow for some much needed air. I exhaled a loud gasp of satisfaction up at the ceiling, closed my eyes and I was gone.

I had forgotten where I was and who I was with for a few moments until suddenly, I felt my legs being raised and pulled forwards. Perhaps I was dreaming. I hoped. Perhaps it was my husband? But then he was on top of me. He was heavy and fat and the thought was a sobering one.

“No, what are you doing.” I shrieked, opening my eyes.

Distracted by movement in the corner of the room I turned to see my husband stumbling to his feet. The sales guy now had my backside on the edge of the bed with his hands firmly on my hips keeping me in place and my legs spread wide over his arms. I saw that my husband was still stroking his cock as he moved to the end of the bed and stood to watch us.

“Rhys!” I screamed at him.

“You look so fucking hot, honey.” He d***kenly grunted, his cock in his hand.

Everything happened so fast I just couldn’t stop it. I later questioned if I really wanted it too. The three of us were d***k and it was clear that these two were in no fit state to listen to me. If I hadn’t cum twice already I would have been eager to get him inside me, but I was no longer horny for this pig who was thrusting his cock at the warmth between my legs while my husband watched on with excitement. I suddenly felt sick. I suddenly felt ashamed.
I looked back towards the sales guy. His eyes were lingering on my body and I knew he would enter him.

“Are you a prick tease, Sophie?” he asked with a cocky grin.

Not intentionally I thought, as he held me down with one hand firmly on my right hip. With his free hand he grabbed his cock and positioned himself at my entrance. I was still wet from a few moments ago and unsure about what I wanted, but then I gave him my answer.

“Put a condom on.” I told him, looking into his eyes.

“Shit! We have some in our room. Shall I go and get one?” My husband offered, stupidly. This guy would never give us the time to do that. I thought.

“I wasn’t asking you.” I said, keeping my eyes on the sales guy “Get a condom.” I repeated.

He leaned forward and caused me to spasm as he rubbed his cock up and down my slit.

“No,” he replied, “If I’m going to fuck you, I want to feel you.”

“Shit!” My husband gasped, as if he was about to shoot his load.

“I’m not ... on the pill.” I said, trying to conceal the increase of my breathing.

He said nothing as he continued to rub against my lips. We both knew how wet I had become and the heat inside my womb had reignited.

“Put a condom ...”

“Enjoy the ride.” He grinned, before plunging his cock deep inside me.

“Oh fuck.” I moaned as the upward curve of his cock rubbed right along the roof of my vagina, touching every millimetre of my g-spot.

“Don’t cum inside me, ok.” I begged.

He grinned as he ignored me, enjoying the power he held over me as he fucked me in front of my husband.

The sales guy was right; it did feel so much better without a condom. Since I came off the pill last year, Rhys and I had been using condoms. I forgot what it was like to feel a bare cock sliding skin on skin against my quivering walls.

Then all my fears seemed to disappear as the thought of this stranger inside me without protection became erotic. I didn’t want him to cum inside me but the risk was now electrifying and sent me over the edge.

“Ohhh, fuck, yes, yes,” I moaned. My orgasm began immediately. “Ohhh, fuck, I’m cumming already. Yes ... ohhh fuck yeah.”

Suddenly my husband climbed onto the bed and started groping my tits whilst he wanked his cock inches above me.

When my spasms and contractions subsided I began to breathe slightly normal, but as the sales guy continued to fuck me I felt another orgasm building. The pressure his curved tip created inside me was relentless. It was almost too much.

“Fuck ... I’m going to cum again.” I groaned, thrashing about on the lovely cock inside me.

“Still want that condom?” The sales guy sniggered, speeding up his thrusts.

“Don’t cum in me; I’m not on the pill.” I repeated. “Ohhh ... fuck what ... the fuck is happening?” I gasped wildly as I experienced my very first multiple orgasm.

“Stop ... I need a rest ... please stop.” I begged.

They both laughed, but no sooner had the sales guy removed his throbbing cock from my body, he had me bent over onto all fours shoving his tool back inside me. He was deeper this time and better. He fucked me with the same vigour as before but when he grabbed my hair and started shouting obscenities I felt it again.

“Oh, that’s it, Sophie,” he moaned, “That’s it you dirty whore. Yeah, give me that juicy cunt of yours; fuck me with your cunt in front of your hubby. “Give me your fucking cunt!”

I knew he was close to shooting his load and that if I let him carry on he would shoot it inside me. I didn’t trust him, but that only made it all the more exciting.

“Don’t cum inside me,” I reminded him. Although I think it was more for my benefit than his.

I pushed back as hard as I could, grinding my pussy into his cock with every powerful thrust, trying to get him deeper and deeper inside me. I needed to cum again; I desperately need that last orgasm, but before I could get it, I was suddenly flipped back over onto my back and he wasted no time in slamming his cock back inside me. Fuck it was amazing.

Once again I had forgotten my husband until he knelt over me again, wanking his cock furiously.

“Rhys, don’t let him cum inside me.” I pleaded with grunts as I looked up at him. I meant it. I really didn’t want him to cum inside me.

“Let him,” He whimpered.

“I’m going to give it to you deep, deep inside your precious, fertile womb.” He added aggressively,

Just as he said it he started to cum. “Ohhhhhh, yeah fucking take it you bitch,” He grunted, “I’m filling up your married cunt with cum.”

I panicked inside and it must have been all over my face too as the sales guy smiled and grunted with each squirting thrust. I felt every pulse of his swollen cock as he emptied his balls into my womb.

Then suddenly I felt a hot jet of liquid land on my face, quickly followed by a second and third landing across my breasts. I looked to my side to see my husband stroke the last few jets of cum out of his cock and onto my breasts.
“Fuck that was awesome.” My husband sighed, satisfied.

“Yeah, that’s one hell of a bird you got mate.” The sales guy added.

“Are you both fucking insane?” I spat at the two of them as I quickly stood up and pushed them away from me. “What if I’m pregnant?”

“I thought you were fucking joking!” The sales guy panicked. “You mean you really aren’t on the pill?”

“No, I’m not on the pill.” By now I had scrambled back into my dress and was heading for the exit. I didn’t turn back to look at the guy who may have just impregnated me, I only called my husband and left.

As I walked back towards my own room I suddenly felt his seed inside me, seeping out slowly and trailing down the inside of my leg. In a state of panic I realised I had left my underwear behind.