Passing the Torch
By belted and teased.
I was the one surprised.
I watched, with a combination of anger, curiosity, and fascination, as a younger man I did not know slid his erection repeatedly into my wife, in the missionary position on our king-size bed. Yes, to answer the obligatory question, his dick was significantly larger than mine—significantly larger. I’m four and a half inches hard, and my girth is about the same. His looked twice as long and thrice as thick.
Looking at her plump nether lips being spread by his girth, it occurred to me that I had planned to be lying between her thighs by now. Either waking her or greeting her by sucking those lips into my mouth and working my way to her center to lash at her clit.
I had imagined her making the moans and mewling sounds she was making now, courtesy of his phallus… but at the tip of my tongue. Then her moans increased in tempo as she approached orgasm, and she spoke, “Oh, gawd… OH DAVID… YES…”
I had planned on making her cry out my name by now… Sam. At least I knew his name now.
She screamed and dug her fingernails into his biceps as she came hard. I waited to see if she was going to let him jizz inside her… I could already tell he did not wear a condom.
He didn’t. Not because she told him to pull out, but because he just kept going, prying more ecstasy from her without finishing himself. Damn. Even in my younger days, I could not have done that. She always took me with her.
I was mad at myself. I had a fucking hard-on watching myself being cuckolded. I had no temptation to pull it out and rub one out. But the fact that I was aroused was disturbing.
Apparently, they were going to be awhile. So, I quietly backed out of the doorway and made my way downstairs. I poured myself a glass of whiskey. We had a fairly large house, an expansive living room with multiple seating areas. I went to the far corner and sat in a comfy leather chair that faced the room. I left the lights out, sipped my drink, and waited.
I had no idea how long I would wait; whether my wife would have her lover spend the night and make him breakfast, or if he was supposed to go home. I sat quietly, mulling over my options and what I would do.
While I did so, I could not help but listen to them upstairs. His stamina was impressive. I listened to her gasping, moaning, and cumming several times. I could tell they were shifting positions. It was a good long time before I heard him bellow and knew he was filling my wife with his seed. No, she didn’t shout out “fill me up” or cum in me” like in porn stories or videos. But there was no cessation of movement, and her cries continued… it was obvious they were still en coitus as he came.
Then things fell silent. I could hear a muffled conversation. Sweet nothings. Eventually, I heard them coming down the stairs.
When they came into view, he was fully dressed, and she was still buck naked. Damnit, she had a fine body—an hourglass shape, nice butt, and D-cup breasts that screamed for attention.
She walked with him to the front door. She had to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him goodbye. She spoke softly, “That was wonderful, David, thank you. I’m a lucky girl.”
His baritone replied, “I’m the lucky one. Me and your hubby.”
They chortled together knowingly, then he exited the door. Then the final arrow. She called out, “I love you!”
“I love you too, baby.”
Then she closed the door and rested against it, enjoying the afterglow.
Now that we were alone, I broke the silence, “Honey, I’m home.”
She turned white as a ghost. I think she almost shit herself.
She turned and moved away from the door, towards me, but only by a couple of steps. I could see her plainly. But it occurred to me, she could not see me sitting in the dark, in my favorite chair where I liked to read. She did not know whether I was holding my second glass of Johnnie Walker Black or one of my pistols. It must have been terrifying for her.
She stammered, “Sam! He… he just stopped by… he… we didn’t…”
I let her grasp at straws for a few seconds more before I spoke calmly, leaving any emotion out of my voice, “At one in the morning? I have been home for two hours, Katie. I even came upstairs intending to surprise you with a tongue-lashing. Surprise.”
Regarding her claim that “we didn’t,” I had already told her I witnessed it. As if that were not enough evidence, I continued, “Look at your legs, woman.”
Kate glanced down. Rivulets of semen ran down her thighs from her well-used womanhood. She muttered, “Fuck.”
Still monotone, “Fuck indeed. Come and sit with your husband, Katie.”
There was another high-backed red leather chair catty-corner to mine. She again stammered, “I, uh, should go clean up first.”
I was still calm, which probably frightened her more than if I had been out of control. “You were not concerned about that two minutes ago. Sit your sexy ass down, Katie. You can clean the pecker tracks off the chair later. We need to talk. You owe me that modicum of respect.”
“I do respect you!” But she walked hesitantly over and sat gingerly.
My lack of response signaled what I thought of her claim of respect.
Now that she was sitting within two feet of me, there was enough light for her to see me and my deadpan expression. And for me to see her well, also. She was crying now, her tears streaking her face with her mascara. Her bountiful chest was heaving, which only accentuated the splotches from her recent arousal and intense sexual activity. The freckles that covered her breasts only highlighted her sensuality. There were two bite marks on them, which she obviously hoped would have healed by the time I got home.
I hoped the lighting was not enough for her to see my erection tenting my trousers. It was frustrating enough that her latent sensuality and the sex acts I had witnessed caused that reaction in me, without her thinking it somehow gave her leave to have cuckolded me. I knew women enough to know if she saw that weakness, she would attempt to exploit it, rather than excuse it.
I had been sipping my Johnnie Walker, enjoying it, but not wanting to be intoxicated for this discussion.
“How long?” I asked matter-of-factly, wanting to keep this low-key.
“Not… not long…”
I simply stared at her wordlessly.
“Six months…”
“Who is he?”
She looked puzzled, “What do you mean?”
“What does he do for a living? How did you meet? Is he married? Does he have kids? Is he good to you, or are you just a piece of ass?”
Kate was a little pissed now. She would have been angrier and more offended if she were not so obviously in the wrong. “Why are you asking me THAT instead of why or is he better in bed or something?? No, he is not married, what kind of a bitch do you think I am?”
I fixed her with a sardonic expression, making her wince at the realization of how ridiculous her last question had been.
“We will get to that. To answer your question, I’ve been sitting here for two hours listening; it is obvious he fucks you better than I do. As for the kind of woman you are, you are an adulteress. Now, please answer my questions.”
It took Kate a few moments to collect herself and respond. For nearly half an hour, she explained that David was an engineer and made good money. They had met at a mutual friend’s house during one of my many business trips. She hastened to say she did not resent the business trips… she understood we needed to live the way we did. One thing had led to another, and “it just happened…”
I rolled my eyes at this common simplification of adultery. “He just tripped, and his dick fell into your twat, huh?”
She shut down for a minute, then realized I was right. “We got along, and… it’s not your fault… but I had time on my hands, and we grew close. He came on to me one night, and I didn’t say no.”
“DO you love him?”
She knew she had said so. “I… Not like I love you, but I guess so.”
She grew uncomfortable with the long pause. Finally, I continued, “DO you love me? Do you want a divorce?”
“No! Please! No, please!” She was crying again. “Of course I love you!”
Of course? I gave her no reassurance, moving on to my next query, “How do I know you are not knocked up? Were you going to let me raise someone else’s kid? It was obvious he was riding you bareback.”
It was apparent that my crass references to their activity were offending her. I did not care.
“I have stayed on the pill… and he has a vasectomy. He also is checked and clean, too, if you’re worried about that.”
I shifted directions so quickly that it made her gasp, “I need to meet him. Please arrange a meeting between the three of us so I can speak with him. All I’ve seen so far is his ass pounding into my wife and my wife professing her love for him.”
She raised her voice, “NoOo! What the hell?!”
I simply fixed her with a disapproving expression.
She lowered her voice. “He won’t want to meet with you… He knows your background… he’ll think you’re gonna kill him. You’re… you’re not gonna kill him, right?”
I remained monotone. “He obviously is not too worried about me, or he would not be fucking my wife. If I wanted to kill him, he’d be dead already.”
She lowered her eyes, “Okay, I’ll try.”
As matter-of-factly as if ordering dinner, “You had best do more than try. We either meet, or we can start dividing assets.”
Her eyes widened.
“Now, you can tell me why.”
For the next half hour or so, I let her talk, reciting to me the trite, predictable “reasons” she had given for leaving our marriage. I listened patiently, letting her get it off her chest (which I watched moving despite myself) as much as anything. From life experience, I already knew why people cheat, other than those who are just bad people at their core. I also understood why, regarding our particular relationship, she “let” it happen.
I suppose this is a good point in the story to converse with you, reader, about why I did not flip out and why I am stoic about the situation. So, while Katie rambles on, I’ll tell you.
When we met and fell in love, we had a significant age difference, nearly twenty years. Kate insisted that “age is just a number.” Being in love, having found a woman who shared many of my interests and was “hotter than a two-dollar pistol,” I was easy to convince.
Still, I had concerns; age is just a number unless you are very young, where it can be criminal, or if you are older, where one partner enjoys youth while the other does not. I was concerned about what Kate would be left with when I became elderly. No, I am not there yet, but time marches on.
In the intervening years, we have done a lot of living together. Travel, jobs, fantastic sex, and for me, a near-fatal health scare. Through it all, Katie was loyal and always by my side without complaint. So, you may see where I am going here. Despite current events, Katie is not some vapid, manipulative bitch. She has proven to have a good heart, centered on me. She has simply gone from a wife with a heart of gold to a whore with a heart of gold, so to speak.
I had long been concerned about what would become of her when the inevitable happens. The older she is when I take the ol’ dirt nap, the more difficult it would be for her to find someone else. I hated the thought of her living a significant part of her life alone, and we have no kids.
So, I was not as upset about her finding someone different as I was about her not telling me. I had often thought about suggesting it.
I know this sounds nuts to some, but your views change as you age.
As Katie began apologizing for me having to hear them “making love,” it apparently aroused her, thinking about what they had done. Despite herself, her body responded. I watched as those sexy, pencil eraser-sized nipples became erect. That and those freckled breasts, which always did it for me, affected me.
Suddenly, Katie glanced down, my growing erection having caught her eye. She apparently decided to test a theory. “I know you had to have noticed… David is hung like a horse. But I want you to know… little Sam makes me cum too… and David does not eat me out nearly as good as you…”
I was controlling my demeanor, but I could not control my manhood. It flexed and throbbed in my pants, very obvious since she was watching for it.
Her eyes lit up, “Oh my God… you’re mad but watching us turned you on, didn’t it?”
I remained deadpan, “He has a mind of his own. It does not matter.”
Wordlessly, she moved to her knees before me. Without asking, she unbuttoned and unzipped my trousers. She freed my phallus from my boxers and lightly traced its outline with her fingers.
I wanted to stop her, to tell her I did not want her touching me with the hands and mouth that she had used on someone else just a few minutes ago. But I found myself unable to act as I felt that familiar tongue and mouth descend onto my manhood.
She took her time, swirling her tongue around my shaft and head, closing her lips around me, and pistoning up and down. She is an expert fellatrix. She could have finished me in a moment, but she apparently wanted to savor me.
It took her talents to make me last. I had been turned on… on the edge for hours. Add to that the images replaying through my mind of that huge dick plunging into her, the sounds of her cries, and the knowledge that another man’s nut was seeping out of my wife’s body even as she blew me.
She knew. She did not have the confidence that she could keep me, but from our previous sex play and fantasies, she knew. She took me fully down her throat and swallowed repeatedly. When my stoicism cracked enough for me to moan with pleasure, she lifted and looked up into my eyes. “That is something else you and I have that David never got… he is too big for me to deep throat him…”
She had to know that was a double-edged comment. She only deep-throated her husband because her lover was too big.
She dove back down onto me, took me down her throat again, then began plunging up and down my shaft rapidly. I groaned, reflexively lifted my butt out of the chair, and fired rope after rope of my frustration down her throat.
She mewled and swallowed repeatedly, milking every bit she could out of me while gently massaging my balls. I continued to groan with pleasure.
When I softened, I tried to return to my hardened demeanor. She sensed it, and laying her head on my thigh, whispered, “I’m sorry, daddy.”
“Don’t play cute. We have a lot to work out. I appreciate what you just did, but it doesn’t change anything.”
She looked up at me with those big, doe eyes, “Will you at least cuddle me in our bed after I clean up?”
I was not hateful. I was not kind, either. “Your bed.”
She teared up, “What?”
“It stopped being our bed when you unilaterally brought someone else into it. Suppose you want me in YOUR bed tonight, okay. But don’t pretend it is ours.”
The next week was awkward to say the least. Katie spent any time we had together attempting to repair the connection and closeness we had lost. I steadfastly resisted… politely. I was not opposed to the possibility, but I was not ready. There were too many loose ends, and I did not know how long it would be, if ever, before we laughed together or shared inside jokes and emotions.
She apparently was having some difficulty convincing her lover to meet with me. First, she had to inform him that I knew. I did not sympathize, but I understood… she had placed herself between two males, and pretty much alpha males at that. When he finally agreed to meet, he told her it had to be at a local restaurant, somewhere public.
“No. Here.”
She went back to him. He suggested a local park.
I simply shook my head.
Finally, he stopped trying to set terms and establish dominance (at least in that regard) and agreed. Friday evening, he was at our door, ringing the doorbell.
Katie and I were in the living room. She looked to me.
“He’s your boyfriend, you can let him in.”
When she opened the door, I could tell they were both at a loss as to what to do. He wanted to lean in to kiss her out of habit, but she pulled back. Not because she did not want to, but out of respect for me. A little late for that, but I said nothing.
I had moved back to my reading chair, holding my glass of whiskey. Katie escorted him to me, and I indicated for him to sit. She stood awkwardly, as there were only two chairs. She finally asked whether she should offer “our guest” a drink.
“If you would like. Then we will need a few minutes alone.”
She did not like that but knew not to argue. I noticed she didn’t need to ask him what he preferred to drink, so I poured him some rum. After giving it to him, she walked slowly upstairs. I figured she was standing on the landing, trying to hear. So, I spoke in a low, monotone voice.
Even though I had already queried her about the basics, I had him tell me about himself; what he did for a living, background, hobbies, etc. He did not exactly relax, but he became more conversational.
Then I just tossed it out, still matter-of-factly, “What are your intentions with my wife?”
“I’m not sure what you mean. What do you want me to say?”
I leaned forward, “Do you love her, or is she a piece of ass? I want you to tell me the truth with no BS.”
He was a big man. Bigger, younger, more muscular. I guess he thought I was trying to intimidate him. Maybe I was. Apparently, I did. His voice quivered, “I’m not afraid of you…”
I rolled my eyes involuntarily, “Nor am I afraid of you. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, answer the question.”
He took a moment, evidently trying to gauge my intent. Finally, he sat back, seemingly resigned. “I honestly do love her. If she were not married to you, I would ask her to marry me.”
I asked him a few more questions along the same lines. Finally, I asked him to wait on the patio while I spoke to Katie. Then I raised my voice slightly, “You can come down now.”
Sure enough, she had been trying to listen. She heard me and walked down the stairs. I motioned for her to sit where he had been.
I waited a moment, collecting my thoughts. “David tells me he loves you. That he would marry you if he could. What about you?”
She stared down at her lap momentarily. “I… I do love him on some level, but not like I love you. I do not want to lose you.”
Still stoic, “What if you did not have to choose?”
To say she looked shocked was an understatement. “WTF do you mean?”
“Do you remember when we got married, and I was worried about our age difference? What would happen to you when I got old?”
Her voice was barely audible, “Yes.”
“This situation solves that problem. I would have preferred it if you had been honest with me and not cheated on me. I don’t know if the trust will EVER be restored. But had you not done this, I may have suggested a lover for you.”
She looked dumbstruck.
“You are in your prime. I love you and want you to enjoy that. If he is willing to share your attentions and wait his turn to marry you, ya’ll can stop sneaking around behind my back.”
There was a very long silence. “And what did David say about that?”
“That is for you to find out, if you want to. It was not going to be two guys deciding what happens to the little woman. If you want this, go talk to him and let me know what you decide.”
“What about you and me?”
I did not soften my tone, “You keep your bedroom, since it is not really mine anymore. I’ll take the loft suite upstairs. You pick who you want to sleep with at any given time. Otherwise, we stay the same. Maybe someday I’ll trust you again.”
She did not like the bedroom arrangement and said so. I shrugged. It was not really negotiable. I already had plans in mind for my own personal man cave.
She gave me an accusatory look, “You’re really willing to SHARE me?”
I replied, without accusation in my tone, “You hardly have the moral high ground to guilt-trip me with, but yes. I love you that much.”
She finally excused herself and went to join him on the patio. As I expected, she was gone for a very long time. They had a lot to discuss. I got myself another drink; when they walked back in together, they found me casually reading a book as if I did not have a care in the world. Of course I did, but I was not going to let them see it.
David let her take the seat while he stood next to her. I took that as a good sign about how he treats her.
David spoke first, “Now I understand why I felt more like a high school kid being interviewed for a date by the girl’s dad than being confronted by a jilted lover. All you needed was to be cleaning a shotgun.”
I nodded to the gun cabinet across the room, “I keep all my guns clean and ready.”
He could not tell what my intent was with that remark, so I just left it.
I spread my hands as if to say, “Well?”
Katie interjected, “Um, David had some questions…”
I turned my gaze to him expectantly.
“So how does this work? Am I supposed to move in? Is this some kind of threesome deal? What is the plan?”
I shook my head slightly. “There definitely will not be any threesomes. There is no plan. Katie can fuck whichever of us she wants, when she wants… kinda like what she has been doing, only without any lies. NO lies. You two can date and move in, IF she wants. I require that you be straight with me.”
He was puzzled. I suppose we all were. “So, what about you and me? Do I have anything to worry about? Are we like, co-husbands?”
I gave him back a puzzled expression, “No, I am her husband. This is my house. I expect to be treated with respect, and you have nothing to worry about as long as you treat Katie right. Hurt her, and we have a problem.”
Katie looked back and forth between us. Finally, she settled on him, waiting for him to say something else.
He was hesitant, “I would like to give it a try… It’s weird, but it could work. I never intended to ruin your marriage, but I love Kate.”
Now both of us men looked to Katie. She looked to me, “If you truly are okay with this, then I would like to try it. Please let me know if you cannot handle it. I don’t want to lose you, Sam.”
I nodded and simply said, “Okay.”
Now that we were all on board, I guess she wanted to test my resolve. “You’re sure you can handle being up in the loft, listening to David making love to me? Thinking about what he is doing to me? You already know how he makes me scream…”
It had the desired effect. Against my will, my shorts tented with my erection. I was not looking for it, but it was impossible to miss the outline of David’s slab of meat growing down his left pant leg.
She had a satisfied smile now. Addressing us both, she asked, “And what if I WANT one of you to watch me with the other? Since the other night, knowing my husband was watching me get laid with his dick hard has been making me moist.”
David replied, “I’m game, either to watch or be watched.”
I shrugged noncommittally, trying not to laugh and at least grinning. Not only because she was causing my erection to throb, but because I knew she was messing with me good-naturedly. I was struggling to remain stoic because I was not ready to forgive and forget so quickly.
It did make me think of a parameter I needed to set. I was not trying to kill the mood, but it had to be said. “One thing. No mercy fucks. That will kill this deal immediately if I suspect you are just humoring me. If I even suspect you are fucking me because you feel you have to, I am done.”
Katie looked on the verge of crying again. “Don’t ever think that.”
My tone was soft, “I have good reason to think that. Promise me.”
She smiled, “I promise.”
She stretched out a foot, placing it on my hard-on and rubbing. At the same time, she extended a hand and stroked David’s bulge in his pants. Again, testing, “If I play with both of you at once like this, that is not a threesome, right? Since ya’ll aren’t touching each other?”
David and I both said the same thing in unison, “Fuuuuuck…”
Fortunately, she continued fondling us both for about a minute, then giggled and relented. This was good; I did not know how to stop it without creating a scene, but I knew I would have to if she did not stop. Obviously, I was enjoying her touch, but I was not ready to succumb to her wiles just yet, certainly not at the same time as her lover.
She addressed him, “Wow, this has been a lot, hasn’t it? I think Sam and I should have some time alone to talk about it one-on-one. Maybe you and I could plan a date?”
David seemed overwhelmed also, and agreed, asking if Saturday night would be good. She looked at me; I nodded, and she said, “Yes.”
Then she walked him to the door, reaching up to kiss him while she fondled him, one foot raised behind her, this time with full knowledge that I sat nearby. It was definitely an odd feeling.
When she came back, she sank back into her chair as if spent, “So. We are really doing this?”
I took a sip of my drink, “We have four options. Divorce, you leave me for him, you dump him for me, or you get everything by doing this.”
“Then we’re doing this.”
We spent the next hour discussing the situation, mostly Katie asking questions and me replying, “I guess we’ll see.”
Finally, she said, “Take me to bed, Sam. This has all been so wild… I need some lovin’.”
“Any port in a storm?”
She pouted playfully, “Don’t be that way, baby. You said you understand why I need more… said you want me to have more. But don’t for a minute think that means I do not want YOU.”
We went upstairs together to her bedroom. She again tried to get me to refer to it as our room, but I wasn’t going for it.
Normally, I would have undressed her, unwrapping her like a fragile present. Instead, I simply removed my own clothes. She again gave me that pout, then slowly disrobed, presenting herself sensuously.
Of course, my body responded, my little soldier standing at attention. She smiled.
The next thing I would normally do would be to position her where I could kiss my way up her thighs and delve my mouth and tongue into her folds, lavishing attention on her clit til she experienced several orgasms.
I wanted to. I really, really wanted to. I remembered how the soft flesh of her womanhood felt, how her thighs pressed against my ears while she trembled in ecstasy.
But I could not bring myself to subjugate myself to her, to “service” her, even though it was my favorite thing to do. So, I stood quietly and awaited her move.
Her pout was on the verge of anger this time. I doubted it was my masterful cunnilingus skills (sarcasm intended) she was upset about; rather, it was likely the fact that I could resist. She knew from experience how much I craved eating her out.
She stepped to me and pushed me backwards onto the bed, then quickly mounted my tumescent phallus.
Oh my God, she felt wonderful, warm, soft, and velvety enveloping me.
She moaned in pleasure.
I could not help but sigh in my own pleasure. Still, I had to comment, “Don’t fake it… I cannot possibly compare to Big Dick Dave… is this a mercy fuck?”
She stopped sliding up and down my shaft, becoming very serious, “Listen here, fucker. I won’t lie to you… Yes, David’s does feel good. But yours does too, in its own way… and what he cannot give me that you do is our emotional connection… I FEEL things with you that he cannot give me.”
The thought of his big dick plunging where mine was now made me throb, which she felt, giving me away.
I saw a glint in her eyes. She spoke again, more confidently, “And if you weren’t mad at me, I’d be sitting on your face right now, fucking it. David might be much thicker than you, stretching me wonderfully… he may have reached parts of my body that little Sam never can… but he will never match your tongue or how much I love you…”
Fuck. I nearly came. And we both learned something about each other at the same time. Humiliation did something for me. She thought she had my number, and I thought I had better force more stoicism than ever.
She kept making “little” SPH comments as she rode me without mercy. When my arousal overtook me, and I began firing off within her, it sent her over the top, too. She cried out and was quaking as we shared release.
She collapsed onto me, her mouth right next to my ear. She whispered, “I love you, Sam. I will never use your secret against you… only to make things better between you and me…”
Catching my breath, I responded, “Well, at least I know you can keep a secret.”
The next few weeks seemed to be transformative for all of us. In addition to what you might expect involving sexual liaisons, there were some interesting changes in dynamics.
One was that Katie and David found their time together was like actual dating. Without the intrigue and excitement of a clandestine, naughty relationship, they had to actually figure out whether they liked each other beyond their respective genitals. By spending more than a few stolen moments together, they learned what annoyed them about the other. I cannot pretend to have been prescient about this; it was interesting to watch. It would be a make-or-break situation, I suppose. Good or bad, depending on your point of view, they appeared to be succeeding.
The next odd paradigm occurred when Katie grew tired of always going out for time alone. I had not demanded that, so eventually she defaulted to spending evenings at home. This, of course, meant that the three of us would share the same space. I did not change my habits; I had already given her another man; I was not planning to retreat to my man cave unless that was what I wanted to do at the moment.
One evening, I was surprised when Katie was making dinner, and David approached my reading nook, where I was doing just that. He motioned to the other chair and asked if I minded if he sat. I nodded. He had no agenda, no particular question, just killing time. We chatted about nothing in particular for a few minutes. It became apparent that Katie’s taste in men didn’t change much; we had a lot in common… besides her.
David would eventually come to me for advice… the older man. I would answer as long as it was not about Katie. No way was I getting drawn into any drama between them.
I did the same if she started complaining about him; I would politely remind her I was not getting between them. Not that something like that happened often.
Another milestone occurred one evening when we were all at home. We all ended up in the kitchen at the same time; I was prepping burgers for the grill, David was cutting up vegetables, and Katie was making us drinks. Suddenly, she seemed giddy. She hugged David from behind, then did the same to me, “I am one lucky girl!”
Things did seem to be gelling pretty well. That was the first night since I initially laid out the offer to her that Katie asked me if it was okay for David actually to spend the night. We both understood what that meant. She and her lover would be in her bed, in what used to be our bedroom, and I would be in my loft man cave. I put a lot of work into it and actually enjoyed my time there. It was decked out as 110% male.
“I’m surprised it took this long. You bet.”
After dinner and a reasonable time being sociable, I excused myself, saying I was going to bed, and I would see them in the morning.
What they did from there was their business.
The loft in our house… more like a cabin, had everything I needed. A king-size bed, a full bathroom with a shower, and I had added a small fridge to keep food, beer, etc. The one thing it did not have, being upstairs by itself, was a door.
I had to wonder whether Katie had chosen to leave the door to “her” room open that night, absent-mindedly, or because she is ornery and “knew my secret.”
I had been in my room barely over an hour when I began to hear their sighs and moans. Much like that first night, it was not long before I heard her crying out while the bed creaked. He was obviously pounding the hell out of my wife, and I could not help playing the image from my first encounter with them through my mind. I could see that long, thick shaft spreading her gorgeous nether lips apart as it slid into her repeatedly. I could see his big ball sack smacking against her ass, and I could see her entire body quaking with a sensory overload.
This went on for well over an hour, then, after a couple of hours’ break, it started all over again. And again, in the morning. I heard her saying something about not wasting morning wood.
After another hour of her cries, I got a text. *Starting breakfast if you want to come down*
I got to the kitchen to find them both cooking. My wife was wearing only a pair of white panties and one of my white “wife beater” t-shirts. Her ass looked glorious, and the top only accentuated her bountiful breasts, pronounced nipples, freckle-spattered cleavage… and the hickies he had left on them. She had no reason to hide them now. David had obvious claw marks down his back and biceps, and several bite marks on his pecs.
My boxers were definitely tented.
Katie leaned close to me and whispered, “Did you not take care of little Sam?”
I whispered back, conspiratorially, “You had him hard all night… but no, I do not want to lie up there listening to you and jacking off…”
She giggled, and no longer being quiet, said, “Good. I like you like this.” She smacked my erection playfully but made no promise to help me out.
Yet as we were sitting and eating breakfast, she blew me away… figuratively and literally. Right there in front of her boyfriend, she got down on her knees before me, pulled my boxers down, and fellated me expertly until I emptied down her throat. I tried to maintain my composure in front of “company,” but she made it so good that I was groaning with pleasure.
Then she stood, made a show of licking her lips, and said, “I love you.”
What had I created?
She asked, “Would you share my bed tonight?”
I instinctively glanced at David. Katie answered my unasked question, “If you say yes, David will stay in the guest room tonight. We can see how he likes listening…”
I splayed my hands out as if to say, “Sure.”
I had most of the afternoon and evening to acclimate to the idea.
When we went to her bedroom, I unwrapped her the way I used to, without saying a word. She began to tear up.
Then I picked her up and sat her on the edge of the bed. I disrobed, then dropped to my knees before her.
Pushing her knees apart, I began kissing up her thighs. Her voice caught, “Oh, Sam… I… I missed this so much…”
I guess as irrefutable proof that she missed my oral attentions… and as evidence of just how much emotion and connection influence love-making, as soon as my tongue made contact with her bud… much too soon for my cunnilingus skills to have had an affect, her entire body began to quake, she placed both hands on the back of my head and cried out as an intense orgasm overtook her. The condition of her womanhood, soaking me, made it apparent she was not faking.
Love had made her cum.
That fact, and the intensity of her response, drove my longing for her. I bathed her clit, I lashed at it, I made her orgasm evolve into waves of ecstasy.
Then, as was my habit, I kissed and caressed her body when she had come down from her high, until she was ready… then I returned to her womanhood and did it all over again.
It may not have been from an oversized phallus, but she was crying out my name, moaning and screaming in orgasmic release, over and over. It may have felt wonderful for her, but it felt amazing for me, too.
My dick was hard as stone, throbbing and pulsing. I was lucky that I was on my knees beside the bed… had I been lying on it, with all the thrashing around she was doing, bouncing the bed, and as aroused as her cumming made me, I likely would have lost my load on the mattress. Which was not how I wanted this to end.
The next time I began servicing her folds and her bud with my mouth and tongue, I also pushed two fingers into her, found her G-spot, and began massaging it with the tips of my fingers.
She went absolutely nuts. She raised her butt off the bed, almost as if she were levitating. She was trembling, but too overwhelmed to be able to make a sound, her mouth open in a silent scream. I had to practically stand to keep her in my mouth, lashing her with my tongue and still using the come-hither motion with my fingers. And then something new happened… she squirted, long and hard. I had never seen a female ejaculation before.
After what seemed to be a very long time, she collapsed onto the bed. I cannot say she was unconscious, but she was delirious. She didn’t seem able to form a coherent thought and didn’t respond when I asked if she was okay. She was quite obviously spent.
As I stood over her, my very needy cock was lined up with her still quivering opening. Raw instinct told me to plunge into her and take what I needed.
But I could not do that. To me, it would be akin to rape, even in this situation. Instead, I picked her up, placed her on the side of the bed, where she had not been completely soaked, and covered her. I lay next to her, letting her sleep, willing myself to do so even though my cock would not. Eventually, I joined her in slumber.
I awoke in the morning to find her already sitting astride my erection. One fortunate thing about my sleep was that I no longer felt as if I would blast off at only a touch.
She was gently gyrating upon me, “Good morning… that was amazing, you really knocked me out…”
I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and caressed her sides. “I have never seen anything like that before… have you ejaculated like that with… um… anyone else?”
She giggled, “Nope, you were the first man I ever drenched… thank you.”
I couldn’t help it… Her beautiful, pendulous breasts were swaying above me, and I had to hold them, then lean up and suck those nipples one at a time into my mouth.
We chatted for awhile longer. She never really picked up the pace, which was fine with me. It was like savoring a fine wine, slowly building to release.
Finally, I felt my orgasm approaching. I held her tightly as my body began to tremble. She began to thrust forward and back in my lap, “Yes, baby, give it to me… cum for me… I can’t believe you didn’t take me last night… you feel really, really ready…”
I choked out, “I am.” I found a place on her cleavage that did not already have a bite mark on it, left by David, and bit down as I came hard.
She began plunging up and down my shaft, cumming with me quietly. When I lifted my head from her breasts, she bit down on my right shoulder hard, groaning into it.
When we had both begun to catch our breath, at least somewhat, she sighed, “Oh my God, you nutted a lot… You must’ve been really worked up…”
Almost without thinking about it, I acted on a fantasy I’d had for years… as long as we were trying new things.
I lifted her and pushed myself down the bed until my head was directly below her crotch.
Realizing what I was doing, she gasped, “Oh my God, honey, you don’t have to do that, I’m all nas… oh, fuck, oh, gawd, yes… fuck…”
I covered her entire mons with my mouth and began bathing her clit with my flattened tongue. She was covered in our mixed fluids. I didn’t have to push my tongue up inside her because, as orgasms overtook her, abdominal contractions pushed my load out of her and into my mouth. I swallowed and swallowed while keeping up my attentions to her bud.
“Oh, damn… this is nasty… oh, fuck yeah, don’t stop, baby. I cannot believe you are doing this for me… I’m cumming again! You might regret this… I want this every time… I love you…”
When she had finished, she lay on top of me. She chuckled because my face was now a mess… then kissed me in appreciation for what I had done. “What got into you? What made you do that?”
I explained that I had read about it years ago, as a kink and as a way for the woman not to have to jump up and go clean herself. I had fantasized about it for years, but after I would orgasm, and that high was gone, the desire to do it was gone too. But this time, there was so much eroticism and sensuality, I still had the desire, so I did it. As if to testify, my dick throbbed against her tummy… I was still turgid, or turgid again already.
She laughed happily, “Poor David…”
I looked at her curiously. She laughed again, “I meant what I said… I want this every time now. So, I’m gonna plant myself on his face next time and make him do what you did… and poor David cums gallons… a lot more than little Sam…”
“Little Sam” jumped against her tummy again. She had just innocently tweaked my ego and my humiliation fetish at the same time.
She looked at me in mock surprise, “Oh, Little Sam likes that, huh? Does he like the fact his daddy… Is my daddy a caring trendsetter? Or that I called him little? Or that David’s big dick and balls cum soooo much more than he does?”
He pressed against her again. She slowly slid down my body, kissing him on the head, and then talking to him, “Mommy’s pussy is worn out for the moment, but I think you deserve some lovin’…”
She took her time, masterfully manipulating him for a very long time before she let “Little Sam” fire his seed down her hungry throat.
About a year later, I stood in the doorway, leaning against the door jamb. I had stopped off on my way up to my loft to say goodnight.
David was lying on his back on the edge of the bed, his feet flat on the floor. My wife sat astride his huge erection in a reverse cowgirl position. She had her eyes closed as she slowly pistoned him in and out of her body, biting her lower lip from the pleasure of it. I watched as her nether lips and her swollen bud alternated disappearing within her and bulging out on the up strokes.
Of course, my boxers were tented when she happened to open her eyes and saw me. She smiled.
“I just stopped by to tell ya’ll goodnight… I’m going to bed…”
David said goodnight… he could not see me with her body blocking his line of sight.
Katie had become much more open and freer over the last year, as she grew increasingly confident in our new paradigm. She gave me a salacious grin, then stuck out her tongue, imitating me lashing it against her clit.
Then she pointed one finger downwards, pointing to her swollen bud resting just above the huge phallus which impaled her. She had stopped moving momentarily.
I shook my head, grinning, as if to say, “You naughty, naughty girl…” Then I turned to go, knowing she was joking. Mostly.
As I disappeared around the door frame, she raised her voice slightly, “Goodnight, Sam… I love you…”
“Love you too!”
As I ascended the stairs towards the loft, the scenario my wife had silently suggested flashed through my mind. I imagined myself rolling my tongue and lips across the top half of her womanhood, tracing her nether lips, lashing her clitoris, and occasionally, inadvertently licking his dick as it slid in and out of her, covered in her juices. Perhaps tweaking her nipples at the same time.
I imagined the violence of the orgasms David, and I could give her together… his phallus filling her to her limits, pressing against her G-spot, while my tongue expertly played her bud. I pictured her hands clasping my head, my hair intertwined in her fingers as she screamed through waves of orgasms.
I considered the overwhelming sensory overload for Katie as we manipulated every erogenous zone she possessed… maybe I would even push a thumb into her backside… in addition to that love factor she felt when I acted selflessly for her.
Fuuuuck. You only live once. What had she created in me?
I turned around and started back down the stairs.
The End.
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