By Micky D

Part 1
Part 2

 

Part 3

 

Mr. Roger’s round face beamed at me over his desk. I was still amazed at
how rotund it was.

“Everything is coming along nicely,” he told me.

I wanted to contradict him and say that everything wasn’t cuming along
nicely – I wasn’t cuming at all. But I bit my tongue.

It was a week later, and I was again back in the consulting room.

“So how’s the prognosis now?” I asked him.

“Very good indeed. You’re healing extremely well, and now it’s just a
matter of time until you’re back to your old self.”

“So I can stop taking those goddamned impotence pills, then?” I asked
hopefully.

He shook his head dolefully. “Not yet. I want to be sure that everything
is healing internally, and that nothing interferes with that. We can’t
risk a premature erection undoing all our good work thus far – otherwise
we would have to go through this whole process again, and we don’t want
that,” He paused and added: “I know it must be very frustrating for
you.” If he’d seen Angela, then he would know how frustrating it was.

I grunted. I hadn’t expected any better, but it didn’t hurt to ask. So –
the soft-dick pills would continue.

He looked at me intently. “You haven’t tried to have intercourse, or
masturbated have you?”

I sent him a sour stare. “Of course not.”

He nodded. “Good. Any undue stimulation or rough handling of the shaft
can be detrimental as well. But without an erection, the risks are
greatly reduced.”

A little bell went off in my head. “Just to the shaft? My glans wasn’t
affected, was it?”

He nodded. “Yes, just to the shaft. That, naturally, is where the major
trauma was, and thus the reason why we want to keep it as stable as
possible for another few weeks. Your glans received relatively little
damage.”

“I see,” I said thoughtfully.

“Well, since all seems to be going according to plan, I will schedule
you in for two weeks time instead. Say, two-thirty in the afternoon next
Monday week?”

I was glad to flee the place, and I headed home.

*****

It can be strange how just one relatively minor occurrence can lead to
major changes in life, and I was shortly to experience the phenomenon
first-hand.

For the last three days Angela had been of her ‘time of the month’, and
this meant that I was unable to even orally please her during her
period. As a result, my already rampant libido skyrocketed yet further
into almost incandescence. My neglected balls had sometimes ached softly
in the last four weeks, but in the last three days they had started to
ache almost constantly. It was not truly painful – just irritating.

So when Angela and I retired to bed that night, I wasn’t surprised when
they began aching yet again. I prayed that Angela’s period would soon be
over, and I could at least deflect some of the constant sexual tension
that made my nerves snap like a loose sail in a high wind by burying my
tongue deep in her creamy pussy. This didn’t say a lot for my
sensitivity to feminine issues – but ladies, please forgive me; as you
may well know, a standing dick – or in my case a sitting one – has no
conscience. I was horny as hell.

I drifted off to sleep with my arm around Angela, the soft waft of her
perfume leading my dreams to a place from which I would never really
return. A lot of people have lucid dreams, I guess – but maybe my
frustrated predicament had my subconscious working overtime.

In any event, the dream I had that night changed my life forever…

*****

I found myself involved in a poker game. The setting could have been
lifted straight from Hollywood; the room was dark and smoky, and I was
sat at a round table that was covered in green felt. A circular ceiling
lamp dangled low over the table, and the face of the other player at the
table was hidden in shadow. I was perplexed at my reason for being here,
since I didn’t gamble a hell of a lot. But I felt an overwhelming
urgency, almost a need, to beat my adversary.

This was apparently proving to be difficult; when my luck was bad, my
opponent seemed to sense my ill fortune, and he upped the ante, and I
lost. When I was dealt a good hand, he eerily seemed to know this as
well, and he quickly folded. I subsequently lost far more than I gained.
I could feel a strange sense of desperation inside me.

I suddenly realised I was out of cash.

“I don’t have any more money,” I said to the shadowy figure across the
table. The man was silent for so long that I wondered if he had heard me.

“What about your wife?” he finally asked in a strangely deep voice. It
was the first time he had spoken a full sentence.

“You want me to bet my wife?” I asked in surprise. His answering
silence simply confirmed my question.

A sudden flitter of motion to my left attracted my eye. I was startled
to discover Angela sitting in a chair against the wall with her long
legs crossed, serenely smoking a cigarette. I wondered if she had been
here all the time. The question of how it was that she was bathed in
light when the rest of the room was so dark didn’t occur to me – but in
dreams, things don’t have to make sense.

I noted that she was wearing a red dress very similar to the one she had
worn when I had first seen her in the bowling alley so long ago. But
this one was a come-fuck-me dress; it was so short that it revealed
not only the full sweep of her smooth thigh, but also a hint of her
right buttock. The plunging neckline dipped half way to her navel, and
the soft swell of her breasts lay exposed almost to her nipples. I
instinctively knew that she was naked underneath the dress.

I looked at her face. She gazed back at me with what was a detached,
almost aloof half-smile, as if she either had full confidence in my
ability to win if I bet her in the game, or she simply didn’t care. She
unfolded her legs and crossed them to the opposite side. I noticed that
she wore her red high-heels with a four-inch stiletto.

“How much?” I asked the shadowy figure opposite me. He slowly pushed the
pile of bills that he had in front of him to the center of the table; he
wanted to wager all that he had in exchange for me wagering my wife. I
licked my lips.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll bet my wife. Deal the cards.”

As he slowly dealt the cards, I glanced back at Angela; her indifferent
half-smile had widened, almost as if she was amused and even pleased at
the notion of becoming the prize in a poker game.

I picked up my cards to discover that I had a high straight. I felt a
glow of elation, and I looked at Angela and winked. Her smile became
almost a leer. The shadowy man across the table was totally silent, and
all I could see was his hand holding the back of his cards to me. He
elected to take two, and I held. Since the bet was fixed – here I
glanced at Angela butting her cigarette – there was no further betting.

He laid down his cards: a single pair of aces. “Let’s see what you got,”
he said.

I laid down my hand in triumph.

“You lose,” the man said.

“Lose?” I barked. “How the fuck can I lose? My straight beats your pair!”

“Take a look at your cards,” he intoned.

I glanced down at my cards; the faces were blank. Plain white. Empty.
I stared down in shock. As I watched, the five cards that I’d placed
onto the green felt almost seemed to shrivel and wither.

“You lose,” the man repeated.

“That can’t be!” I yelled.

“You lose, honey,” Angela interjected softly. “You shouldn’t have bet me
if you didn’t have anything to back it up with.” Her leering smile had
become a lusty smirk. She rose to her feet, and I now saw that the
hemline of her dress barely covered her pubic region.

I went to rise to my own feet – only to discover I couldn’t move. I was
paralyzed. The harder I tried to rise, the more I became immobile.

Angela walked over to the victor sitting opposite me. He slid his chair
back to allow her to stand in front of him with her back to me.

“Are you going to take me now?” I heard her ask him.

“Yes. Undress yourself.” he replied. His words rocked me. Undress
yourself? Angela?

The ceiling lamp now started playing weird tricks; the bright cast of
its light seemed to alter to keep only the face of the mysterious man in
shadow. When Angela turned to face me I could clearly see her soft,
drowsy smile, She slowly reached around behind her back to unzip her
dress, and she slowly peeled it off; her beautiful breasts and her
neatly-trimmed thatch of pubic hair leapt into view. She contemptuously
tossed her dress aside, gazing back at me with a teasing smile. I sat
staring in frozen disbelief as she stood naked in the harsh light of the
ceiling lamp. My rivals’ hands suddenly came from behind to cup her
hips. He drew her backwards and pulled her down to sit on his lap.

Their faces were lost in the shadows again, but I could see that Angela
had swiveled her head sharply to the right because the bottom of her
golden tresses swept over her upper chest. The smack of lips suddenly
echoed from the far side of the table, and it was perfectly obvious that
they were kissing. His hands slid around her waist, reaching up to cup
her firm breasts.

I opened my mouth to speak – whether in approval or in protest, I wasn’t
sure – but no sound came out in any event; I was dumbstruck. Again I
tried to rise from my seat, but I couldn’t move. It was like my arms and
legs had become welded to the chair on which I sat. I realised that I
was becoming hard – I could feel my cock slowly expanding inside my
trousers.

He took each of her nipples between a thumb and forefinger, and he
rolled them firmly. They instantly hardened, and I heard a smothered
moan issue from my wife’s lips. He tweaked and teased her nipples
expertly, and her hair dipped sharply to one side. I realised he was
kissing her neck – which always turned her on. Her body began to writhe
almost imperceptibly.

“Do you want me to suck your cock?” I heard Angela whisper to him.

“Yes,” he said in that strangely deep voice. “Get on your knees.”

Angela climbed up off his lap, and he also rose to his feet. Angela’s
pretty face reappeared in the circle of harsh light as she sank to her
knees. She reached over and undid his trousers, and she soon slid them
down. His briefs followed next, and I was stunned as his cock sprang
into view; it was already erect, and at least eight or nine inches long,
and very thick.

Angela, in fact, drew a startled breath as she gazed at it. “What a
beautiful cock,” she whispered in adoration.

“Bigger than your husband’s cock, isn’t it?” he stated.

Angela nodded. “Lots bigger. I want to suck it.”

“Then suck it,” he told her. “Blow me.”

I sat paralyzed as she did just that; her pouty lips parted and her head
darted forward, sliding the broad purple head of his massive tool slowly
into her mouth. She eased further forward, and my eyes widened as she
engulfed him totally. How she could take all of him inside her mouth I
didn’t know – but she did. Her pert nose was buried in his pubic hair,
and his balls joyfully kissed her dimpled chin.

“Mmmmmmmm…” she hummed from the back of the throat.

She pulled her head back until the glistening crown of his cock withdrew
to her lips, and then she repeated the process – taking him back into
her mouth and out again, over and over, getting faster and faster. Her
long blonde hair swayed hypnotically back and forth, and lewd sucking
and slurping noises drifted over the table. The faceless man slowly
reached down and gently pushed her head back so that the underside of
his glans rested on her bottom lip.

“Hold your mouth open and keep still,” he commanded.

My wife obeyed him; she opened her mouth a fraction wider and gazed
adoringly up at him. He then started to fuck her mouth, swinging his
hips slowly back and forth, and again I watched in disbelief as his long
cock slid in to the hilt. His full balls slapped against her chin.
Angela’s rapt gaze never left his face.

“Play with your cunt,” he bluntly told her. “I want it soaking wet.”

I saw her right shoulder dip slightly, and although I couldn’t see under
the rim of the table, I knew that Angela was again complying with his
request. I could imagine her nimble fingers sliding into her moist slit,
making it slick with her secretions. He continued to face-fuck my wife,
and she tilted her head slightly back, allowing his cock to slide even
further down her throat. A glistening stream of her saliva trickled down
her lips and formed a wet inverted mound under her chin. It quickly grew
under its own weight and hung for several seconds before it dribbled
slowly onto her tits.

He pulled his hips back, and his cock slipped from her mouth, hovering
over her face like a club. A sticky bridge of saliva hung between her
lips and his cock for a second or two before it broke.

“Is your hot little cunt wet yet?” he asked her.

“Yes – my pussy is so creamy for you,” my wife replied. “Are you going
to fuck me now?” she asked hopefully.

“Yes. Get up onto the table, on your back.”

Angela quickly rose to her feet and backed up to the table. She levered
herself up on to it with her hands, and then slowly leaned back until
her body was flat on the felt surface, with her buttocks slightly
overhanging the opposite edge. She raised and parted her legs, and I
could see the she was still wearing her red high-heels. Her inverted
face was now no further than three feet from me. She tilted her head
back and looked up at me.

“He’s gonna fuck me, honey!” she told me huskily, following up with what
appeared to be an involuntary giggle, as though she couldn’t help it.
Her nipples stood proudly erect, like little flagpoles.

The faceless man moved unhurriedly between her parted thighs, his
countenance still clad in shadow. He firmly seized the spikes of her
high-heels, one in each hand, and pushed her legs back and outwards even
further. This tilted her pelvis upwards, and lifted her pussy lips into
my line of sight. He then swung his hips forward, and his hard cock
slithered over her cunt, almost pointing directly at me like the muzzle
of a canon.

He settled until his broad swollen glans was resting just under her
mons pubis. He began rocking his hips slowly back and forth, seesawing
the underside of his thick shaft between her labia. I realised that it
was also rubbing against my wife’s clitoris, teasing her. I could feel
my own cock throbbing impotently.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked her.

“Mmmmm, yes!” my wife panted. “I want you to fuck me hard.”

“Beg me,” he told her

“Please fuck me. Please!”

“Why? Why do you want me to fuck you?”

“Because I need it!” squealed my wife. “Because I need to be fucked!”

“Doesn’t your husband fuck you?”

“Not anymore! He hasn’t fucked me in months!”

“So that steamy little cunt of yours hasn’t had a hard cock up it
recently?”

“No!” Angela rasped. “Not for ages!”

“I’ll soon fix that,” the man confidently chuckled, rocking his hips a
little faster. The underside of his glans slithered wetly back and forth
over her clit.

“Good!” Angela gasped eagerly. She wriggled her hips. “Please stop
teasing me! Do it!”

“You put it in,” he told her. “If you want my hard cock inside you so
much, then you reach down and put it in.”

My wife hastily slid her hand down to his meaty shaft. She wrapped her
fingers around it, and guided the massive head downwards. I actually saw
it disappear between her upturned pussy lips.

“Now fuck me!” my wife hissed to him.

I watched helplessly as he slowly thrust his hips forward, and his thick
cock slid wetly into her – inch after inch after inch, until at last his
huge tool was completely buried in her cunt. Angela uttered a long,
grateful moan and tilted her head back toward me. I stared at her
upside-down face, and her green eyes bored into mine.

“Mmmmm, he’s inside me, Michael,” she panted to me. “His hard cock is
so deep inside me! Jesus, it feels so good! He’s gonna fuck me hard,
honey!”

I heard him laugh softly. He slowly began sliding his cock in and out of
her pussy, almost in slow motion. “I think Michael likes watching
someone fuck you,” he said.

Angela grinned and looked towards his face. “I know he does. You
didn’t need to win me in a bet – you could’ve just asked him if you
could fuck me. That would have made him hard!”

The man guffawed. “He’s already got a hard-on.” I have no idea how he
knew I had an erection – but he did.

Angela smirked cattily. “That makes a fucking change! See? He can only
get it up if someone else fucks me – and you’re gonna fuck me hard,
aren’t you?”

“I sure am. Your sweet little cunt is so tight!”

Angela smiled. “It’s tight because my fucking husband hasn’t used it in
so long!”

He laughed again. “That wouldn’t matter – you’d still be tight for me
anyway.”

She giggled. “I’m sure I would be! Your cock is so big – and so
hard! I love feeling it inside me!”

He gave a deep chuckle. “Are you sure you want my cock? Wouldn’t you
rather have your husbands cock inside you instead?”

“NO!” she cried sharply. “I want yours!”

“You’re a horny little tart, aren’t you?” he stated.

“Yes, I am! – now FUCK ME!”

He instantly obliged her, slowly speeding his rocking hips, slamming his
cock deep inside her as I sat in paralyzed silence, watching every
powerful thrust, watching my wife’s body jolt with each firm stroke,
watching her beautiful tits describe tight, wobbly circles as the rhythm
of his pumping hips flowed up through hers. He was still holding the
spiked heels of her shoes, using them almost like a pair of convenient
handles with which to keep my wife’s legs widely parted.

Angela’s moans soon took on a far more urgent and ardent tone. Her body
tensed as the carnal slap of their flesh became more and more intense.
With her legs drawn so sharply back, I could see her pussy lips clinging
to his cock as it slid in and out, slick and shiny with her juices.

“I’m gonna cum any second!” he grunted.

“Cum inside me,” my wife implored loudly. “Shove it right in and shoot
it deep inside me! Cream me!”

He uttered several shuddering moans, and his hips suddenly plunged
forward and drove his cock inside her to the hilt. I knew at that very
moment his semen was beginning to erupt deep inside my wife’s hot,
creamy pussy.

“Oh, yeah!” he moaned loudly. “I’m cuming!”

Angela arched her back under him, and yelled: “I’m cuming too! Cuming!
CUMING!”

*****

“Cuming.”

The voice caused my eyes to snap open. There was only darkness, and I
was softly gasping. I could feel myself trembling. Disorientation took
me for a few seconds.

I inhaled the familiar aromas of our bedroom. A dream, I realised. A
goddamned dream!

I felt Angela in bed beside me; I was pressed snugly against her naked
back, and she was stirring from slumber.

“Michael?” she murmured groggily. “Are you okay? I heard you cry out,
baby.”

I heard her reach up and tap the touch lamp on. I squinted in the sudden
brightness.

“I’m okay, hun,” I replied. “Just a dream.”

She slowly began to roll over to face me when a look of sudden confusion
passed over her face.

“What the hell…?” she muttered. She reached behind her back, sliding
her right hand down to her panties.

At the same time, I became aware of a dampness on my briefs. I darted a
hand down to my groin; my briefs were drenched, and from the smooth,
sticky consistency I knew that it was semen. The dream had caused me to
ejaculate – a lot.

Angela drew her hand from behind her back, rubbing her fingers together
and staring at them intently. She, too, realised that the fluid was semen.

“A wet dream?” she softly asked me.

I sighed in embarrassment. “Apparently so,” I replied. My groin had been
pressed tightly against her backside as I dreamed, and some of the
watery pre-cum and semen must have soaked through my underwear and onto
her panties.

I arose and went to the bathroom to clean up the mess, still stunned by
what had occurred. I returned to the bedroom and slid a fresh pair of
briefs on.

“Is everything okay, baby?” Angela asked as I slid back into bed. I knew
what she was referring to; she was worried about if I had hurt or
damaged the healing incision in my penis.

“Yeah, it’s okay, baby,” I told her sullenly. “I had a look in the
bathroom. Everything’s fine.”

“You didn’t get hard at all, did you?” she asked.

“No, hun,” I replied. “Those fucking pills are still working. I wasn’t
hard at all.”

“What did you dream about?” she inquired.

“I can’t remember,” I replied – a little too quickly. Even to me it
sounded lame, and I inwardly cringed.

“Don’t lie to me, Michael,” she said quietly. “Whatever you dreamed
about made you so aroused that you were able to have a wet dream – even
though you weren’t hard. I want to know what the dream was. It’s
important to me.”

I closed my eyes. “Can I tell you tomorrow?”

“No – by the morning you will have forgotten most of it. Tell me now.”

I doubted I would forget that dream in a hurry. I sighed again – I was
cornered. I acceded to her request, and I recounted the dream in soft,
halting detail, omitting nothing. Angela lay beside me and listened
intently. When I had finished my account, she smiled softly and kissed me.

“Thank you, honey,” she said. “Okay – well, firstly, I’m not surprised
that you had a wet dream; it’s been six weeks since you last ejaculated,
and it was bound to happen sooner or later, honey. So don’t be
embarrassed about it, okay?”

I smiled wanly and nodded.

“Secondly, I’m very aware that the notion of me screwing another man has
a huge impact on you, and that it’s probably your biggest turn-on. As
I’ve always told you, I’m more than fine with that fantasy, honey, and I
can certainly understand it. Jesus, I use it on you myself, so don’t
be shy about telling me any dreams or thoughts that you have about it,
no matter how kinky or extreme they are, okay?”

I nodded again.

“Thirdly? I’ll play amateur psychiatrist, and say that I can see that
there’s a lot of things in that dream that reflect the current situation
– for example, I’m guessing that the cards going inexplicably blank and
wilting is perhaps symbolic of how the medication is keeping you soft.
The same with you not being able to move or speak as you watched me.
That dream just blended your inability to have a hard-on with your
cuckold fantasy – very intensely.”

“You’re probably right,” I said quietly.

“I’d really like to talk about a lot of the other things that you
mentioned, but not right now – it’s too late and I’m in a coma and can’t
think straight, honey. Can we talk about it tomorrow?”

“Sure, baby” I replied.

She gave me an inquiring look. “Did you actually climax?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Being asleep, it was kinda hard to tell. But
I think I did.” In fact, I did feel a warm post-climax glow in my loins.

Angela cocked her head to one side. “Really? That’s interesting. Very
interesting. We just might have to have a chat about that, too. But
let’s get some shut-eye, huh? I have an early start tomorrow, honey.”

I nodded, and she touched the metal base of the lamp and the room was
plunged back into darkness. She kissed me again, and our faces remained
pressed gently together on the pillows.

“I love you, baby” she whispered.

“I love you, too” I replied.

There was silence for about twenty seconds, and then she quietly asked:
“Did you enjoy watching him fuck me?”

“Yes,” I answered softly.

I felt a soft grin flood her face.

We drifted back off to sleep in eachother’s arms.

*****

Angela and I didn’t get a chance to talk about my lascivious dream until the evening after the next. We’d had visitors the night after I’d had my dream, and we had gone to bed very late and very tired. The next evening we were gloriously alone. At around 10:00pm, and after we were sure we wouldn’t get any more unexpected guests, Angela suggested that we take a long relaxing soak in the spa. The spa was an extravagance that I’d added to her gym room downstairs.

We gratefully climbed into the warm water. Angela had retrieved two beers from our refrigerator, and she handed me one as we sat letting the warmth of the spa soak into us.

We chatted about the usual stuff for about ten minutes, and then she sent me a long appraising stare accompanied by a soft smile. “So, honey,” she began. I knew it was time for our little chat about my dream. “Did you really climax the other night?”

“I think I did,” I replied. “Like I said – being asleep it was kinda hard to tell.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Did you know you were actually humping me?”

That took me by surprise. “No – I wasn’t aware that I was.”

“That’s what woke me up,” she said. “You were moaning in your sleep and softly grinding yourself against my ass. I thought that there was something wrong with the cut.”

I blushed slightly. “Jesus – I’m sorry, baby!”

Angela brushed my cheek gently with the back of her hand. “Don’t be sorry, honey. You were asleep, and I was just worried when I heard you moaning.” She took a swig of her beer. “I did some checking on the Internet the other day. It’s quite possible for a man to have an orgasm even if his dick isn’t hard. It’s far more difficult to achieve, and the man has to be extremely aroused – but it’s quite possible. So you may very well have actually climaxed as you dreamed.”

I sent her a rueful grimace. “Just my luck to be asleep while it happened,” I grunted.

Angela gave a soft laugh. “True enough! But think of it as a good sign, honey: everything’s still working just fine, by the looks.”

“Rogers told me that the head of it – my glans – was hardly damaged at all,” I told her. “He said that the nerves are okay. So I guess that if I was grinding it into your backside, then there might have been enough stimulation to make me climax even though I was still soft.”

“And the dream you were having obviously excited you a lot,” Angela replied. Her face became thoughtful for a few seconds. “He’s just worried about you having an actual erection, isn’t he? Mr. Rogers, I mean.”

I nodded. “Yeah. He told me that I needed to avoid any trauma to the shaft – no erections or anything else that would cause the wound to open up, or to screw things up internally.”

“You mean no jerking or pulling it?”

I shrugged. “So he said.”

“But your glans is essentially fine now? That part’s okay, isn’t it?”

I nodded again, wondering what she was driving at. “I guess so. If I was able to cum in my sleep the other night, and everything’s still okay, then it seems to be.”

Angela took another swig of her beer and glanced thoughtfully at me for a few seconds. “Why don’t we see, honey?”

“Huh?” I grunted.

Angela flashed me a smile. “Why don’t we try to reproduce what happened during your dream, and see if we can make you climax again?”

I looked at her. “What do you mean?”

“Well, are you sure that you can’t get a hard-on? I mean, are you sure that no matter what you do, you can’t get an erection because you’re taking those pills?”

I gave a perplexed nod. “I haven’t even come close to being hard since it happened – no matter how aroused I am, as you probably know, hun.” I had, in fact, attempted on several occasions to see if I could at least start to harden in response to stimulation, just to see it I could. But no matter how much I tried, I remained flaccid and limp. The evil little pills were certainly doing their job.

“So,” Angela added. “What about if I was to softly caress and stroke just your glans – no jerking or pulling the shaft. I wonder if that’d be enough to make you climax, honey – especially if I was to tease you a little as I did it.”

A little electric jolt passed through me. The thought of her caressing me after so long without any such contact made me tingle. The ever-present carnal buzz inside me quickly went into high gear.

“In fact,” Angela continued with a suggestive smile. “As I did it, we could play a little game of Questions and Answers. Then we’d really be able to explore your kinky little dream, wouldn’t we, hmm?”

I nodded eagerly. Questions and Answers was a lascivious little word game that Angela and I played every now and again – a little like Truth or Dare, except that there were no dares involved. The rules were simple: One of us asked the other a question, and the other had to answer truthfully, usually with a simple yes or no – although often the questions needed a more open answer. It was almost like a gentle sexual interrogation. Angela loved to play this game in order to explore the darker side of our desires and fantasies. It was one of her favorite post-coital ploys that she used during pillowtalk, and to be honest I loved to play it because it always led to some extremely hot and erotic conversation.

“I’d love to try that,” I replied quietly.

Angela’s smile widened. “When we talk about your dream, I’m gonna ask you some very kinky questions about it, okay? You promise to answer me truthfully?”

I nodded again. One of the unspoken rules of the game was that nothing was taboo, and that practically any question was allowed, and it had to be answered honestly. “Do you want to do it now?” I asked her.

She shook her head. “It’s too awkward in the tub. We’ll wait until we’re done in here, hun, and then we’ll go and have a nice, long chat about it in the lounge.”

“Okay – I’m ready when you are!” I said in what was only half mock-enthusiasm.

My wife giggled. “You’ve waited six weeks, lover! I’m sure you can hold on for another few minutes!”

Angela craftily changed the subject right then, and we lazed in the spa for another ten minutes or so, talking about this and that. Because it was already late in the evening, we both just put on our dressing gowns rather than getting completely re-dressed. We headed upstairs into the lounge-room and made ourselves comfortable on the couch. The wicked little buzz in my loins was practically screaming. Angela could sense my eager anticipation.

“Ready to play the game, lover?” she asked me. I nodded hungrily.

She grinned. “Untie your dressing gown, honey.”

I loosened the cloth strap around my waist, and Angela reached across to peel the gown open; my pubic region became exposed to her gaze. She rose from the couch and sank to her knees in front of me, placing her hands on my knees and parting them.

She looked up at me. “You’re sure that you won’t get hard, baby

“I’m sure, hun,” I replied.

“If you even harden a little, I’ll stop, okay? Slide down a bit, honey.”

I pushed my hips down and outward, so that I was almost slumped with my backside was just hanging off the cushion. Excitement fluttered through me.

“That’s it,” Angela told me. “Now I can get to you properly…”

She moved between my knees and reached down with her left hand to gently lift my cock. I uttered a soft gasp; although she had occasionally changed my bandages for me when I’d still had the sutures in, she had obviously not touched or caressed me in a sexual manner. This was the first time that she had actually fondled me in over seven months. As she held my penis upright in her left hand, she extended the forefinger of her right hand and placed it on the incredibly sensitive spot just under my glans. She began to softly massage the tip of her finger underneath me, making rapid little circles. Little sparks went off in my loins.

Angela looked up at me. “Feel good, baby?”

“Jesus, yeah!” I softly gasped. Normally I would have begun to get hard long before this, and with the delicious waves that her swirling fingertip was sending through me, I should have hardened instantly. But my cock stayed disconcertingly limp. For some weird reason, I was surprised to find that this in itself was a turn-on.

“Good,” my wife replied softly. “Let’s start the game, honey.”

*****

“Okay,” she said. “So in your dream, you said I was very scantily dressed?”

“Yep.” I replied. As I have mentioned, I had told her the main particulars of the dream I’d had right after it happened, but not all of the fine details.

“How scantily?” she asked.

“You were wearing a very tight dress – a red one. Very short.”

“How short?” she inquired.

“I could almost see your pussy when you stood up.”

“Ahh.” she intoned. “That short. What else was I wearing?”

“Your red high-heels – the ones with the stiletto heel.”

“What bra did I have on?”

“You weren’t wearing one.”

“No panties either?”

“No – no panties either. Nothing underneath.” I confirmed.

“So I was dressed liked a complete little slut?”

“Yes.”

She smiled and tilted her head slightly. “What about the man you were playing poker with – what was he wearing?”

“A black shirt, I think. And a pair of casual slacks – something like that. I didn’t take much notice.”

“Was he older than you?”

“No.”

“So he was younger than you, then?”

“Yes.”

“How much younger?”

Her question made me think; I suddenly recalled that I had sensed that the shadowy guy in my dream had been younger than I was. “Mid-twenties. Maybe younger.”

Angela smiled. “Ahh… so he was a lot younger than you, then?”

“Yes.”

“Did that excite you? Imagining a younger man fancying me?”

“Yes.”

“What about when you bet me in the game. How did I react? Did I tell you not to bet me?”

“No. You didn’t say anything.”

“Was I angry?”

“No – not at all. You just smiled at me, as if you thought it were funny. Or even that you wanted to be a prize in the game.”

“Ah-hah!” Angela breathed, “And how did that make you feel?”

“Hot.”

“What did I do when you lost?”

“You stood up and kinda smirked at me. You told me I shouldn’t have bet if I couldn’t back it up.”

“And how did I sound?” Angela inquired.

I again thought for a few seconds. “Bitchy.”

“Bitchy?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“Did that excite you?”

“Yes, it did – a lot.”

Angela digested this information for a few seconds. “And then I walked over to the guy whose face you couldn’t see, and who’d just ‘won’ me?”

“Yes.”

“What happened then?”

“You asked him if he was going to take you.”

“‘Take me’? You mean if he was going to fuck me?”

“Uh-huh.” I confirmed. He swirling fingertip was sending continual waves of pleasure through my loins.

“Did he undress me?”

“No. You undressed yourself – because he told you to.”

“Ah, I see. So he told me to strip, and I did it?” Angela inquired.

“Yes.”

“And how did that make you feel? Seeing me undress in front of him because he told me to?”

“Very hot.”

She continued very gently rubbing and massaging underneath my glans as this deliciously lewd interrogation continued. My member remained paradoxically limp despite the tingling waves of pleasure her fingertip was sending through me. She delicately probed all the events that had occurred in my dream, wanting to know even the minor details. When we got to the part about her kneeling in front of him and her deep-throating him, she seemed especially interested.

“So I just knelt there as he slid his cock into my mouth?” she asked.

“Yes,” I told her.

“Was I jerking him off or anything?”

“No – you just knelt there with your hands at your side as his hips went back and forth.” I said.

Her mischievous grin warned me that she was about to say something very crude. “So I basically let him use my mouth like a cunt?”

I gasped. “Yes!”

“Did I lick his cock?”

“Not really,” I replied. “But you drooled a lot.”

“Drooled?”

“Yes. You had drool trickling down your chin.”

“A little, or a lot?”

“A lot,” I replied. “So much that it dripped onto your tits.”

“Ahh!” Angela said. “And did that turn you on?”

“Yes, it did – very much,” I admitted.

“See, that’s something I didn’t know turned you on.” Angela said softly. She looked up at me and leaned down so that her face was directly over my flaccid member. She worked her mouth for a second or two, and then extended her tongue. A creamy ball of her saliva slowly rolled down and landed on the head of my cock.

“Did it look like that, honey,” she asked me.

“Jesus Christ, yes!” I panted loudly. Her saliva tricked slowly down one side of my glans.

She smiled sweetly at me, and then lowered her mouth to my cock. She sucked the head softly between her lips, and my hips jerked as the creamy warmth of her mouth enveloped me. For the first time in over seven months she was sucking me! I moaned softly.

She winked at me, and I could feel the tip of her tongue slithering wetly under my glans, zeroing in on that sensitive spot underneath. She did this for maybe ten seconds before she withdrew my cock from her lips – but instead of breaking contact completely, she kept her lower lip seesawing against the underside of my glans, her jaw moving steadily from side to side. This actually enabled her to continue to talk to me even as her soft, warm bottom lip rasped continually against me. I uttered another gasp of pleasure.

“Did that feel good, honey?” she asked.

“Christ, yeah!” I answered tightly.

She giggled. “It’s been so long since I took you into my mouth, Lover. Now – what happened next in your dream?”

And so the little game continued – me answering her questions as her lower lip steadily sawed at the underside of my glans. Whenever she did stop to ask a long question, or to make a long observation, her index finger instantly took over, gently massaging and sliding wetly under me. We reached the point in my dream where Angela had lowered herself onto the table. My legs were now trembling.

“So I looked up at you with my face upside-down, and told you that he was gonna fuck me?” she asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Anything else?”

“You giggled about it.”

“Like this?” She uttered a soft, sexy giggle.

“Fuck, yes! Just like that.”

“What else did I say?”

“You begged him to fuck you.”

“Did I just?” Angela replied. “Was I more bitchy, or less bitchy than before?”

“More bitchy,” I panted. “You told him you needed to be fucked.”

“I’m sure I did,” My wife replied. “Did it excite you that I was being so mean and bitchy?”

“Yes.”

“What was he doing?”

“He was sliding the bottom of his cock along your pussy – kinda teasing you to make you want it. He asked you if I had fucked you recently.”

“And what did I say?”

“You said that I hadn’t fucked you in months.”

“Well, that part’s true, honey,” she replied with a wink. “How did that make you feel?”

“It just made me hotter! I could feel myself getting a hard-on.”

“Ah!” Angela said. “So in your dream you got the hard-on that you can’t get for real?”

“Yes.”

“What happened next?”

I was panting in earnest now. “He made you reach down and guide his cock between your pussy lips.”

Angela giggled. “Mmm, very kinky! And then he slid his cock into me?”

“Yes!” I replied.

“And he started fucking me?”

“Yes! Slowly!” I gasped.

“Did I keep teasing you as he fucked me?”

“Yes!”

“What kind of things did I say?” Angela asked softly. I looked down and watched her lower lip rasping wetly under my glans.

“You kept telling me how hard he was.” I panted.

“What else?”

“You told him that he didn’t need to ‘win’ you,” I said shakily. “You told him that he could’ve just asked, and I would have given you to him.”

“Ahh… That was very kinky and bitchy of me! What did he say?”

“He just kinda laughed. He told you that I liked watching him fuck you. He somehow knew I was hard at that moment, and he told you.”

“And what did I say?” Angela asked, tilting her head slightly to one side.

“You said I could only get hard if I watched someone else fucking you.”

Angela’s eyes lit up, as if in sudden enlightenment. “Ahhh! And how did that make you feel?”

“It made me shake!”

“What happened then?”

“He started fucking you – harder and harder!”

“What sort of things was I saying as he fucked me?” Angela asked enticingly.

“You told him how big and hard he was. He asked you if you’d rather have my cock inside you instead…”

Angela giggled. “And let me guess – I said no?”

“Yes,” I replied shakily, “You told him you wanted his cock”

“Mmm, that was bitchy of me, wasn’t it honey?” Angela grinned wickedly.

“Jesus, yes it was!”

“I bet that excited you though, didn’t it?”

“Uh-huh!” I confirmed. Her lower lip rasped wetly under my glans with greater fervor. The combination of her constant but gentle ministrations and her wickedly carnal questions was causing a hot tension at the base of my cock. I thought I felt the first stirrings of climax building deep in my loins. I uttered another soft, almost desperate moan.

Angela knew that we had come to the part of the dream that had aroused me the most; her sawing lower lip began caressing me a little faster, and her voice became even more sultry, almost teasing.

She giggled again. “So you sat there, with your poor cock all hard, and you had to listen to me telling another man that I wanted his nice big hard cock instead of yours?”

“Yes!” I groaned.

“You do realise that if it happened for real now, you wouldn’t even be able to get hard would you, honey? You’d just have to sit there, all soft, and watch as he fucked me with his powerful cock, wouldn’t you?”

“YES!” I almost shrieked. The wickedly kinky image that she’d just outlined slithered through me like a lascivious drug; the hot, urgent tension at the root of my cock tightened even more. Her warm, slippery lower lip chaffed insistently under my glans.

“Ahh! Is that thought making you hot, baby? Your cock staying soft as someone else fucks me?”

“Jesus fuck, YES!” I groaned. Another warm flutter rippled through my loins. I looked down to see that front of her dressing gown had parted, and her breasts peeked out at me. Her nipples were hard, and this just aroused me even more.

Angela slid out her moist pink tongue, and flicked it rapidly under my soft glans for a few seconds. I moaned sharply as new waves of ecstasy rippled down my shaft, watching her beautiful face and her sparkling eyes. She withdrew her hot tongue and immediately continued sawing and rasping me with her lower lip again.

“I see,” she said in that silky, soft voice. “So if I were to go out one night and find myself a playmate, it’d drive you wild to sit here and watch me play with him, lover? Knowing that you couldn’t get your little pecker hard for me?”

“Oh, Christ, yeah!” The phrase little pecker hit me like a lascivious freight train.

“Ah!” she grinned, zooming right in. “Does it make you hot if I say that you have a little cock, lover?”

“YES!”

Angela gave a soft chuckle: “How about a little, useless cock?”

“FUCK, YES!” I blurted. Hearing her say that made my hips literally buck. Climax swirled distantly in my upper thighs.

She stifled a giggle. “So you wouldn’t mind if I told him that my husband couldn’t get his tiny, pathetic little pecker up for me anymore?”

“No!”

“Could I tell him that because my tiny-cocked little hubby was always soft, I was desperate for a good, long, hard fucking?”

“Oh, God, do it!” I exclaimed. I could now definitely feel orgasm hovering nearer, dancing closer, and then skipping teasingly away. The waves of pleasure from Angela’s constantly reciprocating lower lip rippled through me.

She now sensed that I was close. “And how about if I even started making fun of you? Telling him that you were just my ‘little softy’…” She uttered another short, wicked giggle.

I looked down at her and groaned. “Oh my God, yes!”

Angela carried on. “That wouldn’t bother you would it, honey? If me and my sexy playmate had a good, long chuckle about my limp-dick little hubby?”

“NO! It wouldn’t bother me!”

“Wouldn’t that be bitchy of me, lover?” she asked sweetly.

“Yes!”

“But you like me being a nasty little bitch, don’t you?”

“Oh, Jesus, YES!” I wailed thinly.

Angela tried another tack: “Of course, if I was going to be a real bitch, I’d make sure that he was young, honey. Early twenties, maybe. Full of energy! Do you think that some horny young stud would like to get into my knickers, lover?”

“Yes!”

“Do you think he’d be able to give me what I need, honey?”

“Yes, he would!” I almost screamed. I could feel the long-forgotten tightening of muscles in my loins. I was so close!

Angela winked up at me. “And what do I need, lover?”

“A good, hard FUCK! A big hard cock deep in your pussy!” I was stunned to hear myself say it.

“That’s exactly what I need!” Angela confirmed lasciviously. “Just imagine, honey – me spreading my legs for some fit and frisky young guy almost half your age. Mmmm! That wouldn’t bother you, would it, baby?

“NO!”

“I bet he wouldn’t have any trouble getting hard for me, would he?”

“No he wouldn’t! Oh, please keep going! PLEASE!”

“He’d be so young and hot and horny that he’d probably fuck me all night long, over and over and over!”

“Do it! DO IT!” I yelled. Orgasm fluttered even closer!

“Do it?” Angela giggled. “I’d let him do me – any way he wanted, honey, and right in front of you!” Angela gleefully continued. “He could do me doggie, or with me sitting on his lap facing him so he could lick and suck my tits.” She gave a brief chuckle. “Well, your tits, but I’ll share them, honey! And of course I’d let him fuck me as I lay on my back with my soft, smooth legs wrapped around his hips – so he could really drive his rock-hard cock so very deep inside me as you helplessly watch! Yum!”

“OH JESUS, YES! PLEASE!” I practically screamed. It was going to happen! I was close to tears as climax slowly teetered on the very brink! Angela’s sparkling eyes flashed up at me as her bottom lip rasped against me even harder and faster.

“And as he fucks me?” Angela purred. “You’re going to hear me to beg and pant and scream out how big and hard he is! And you’ll have to sit and listen and watch with your poor little cock all limp and soft and fucking useless as I finally get the good, hard fucking I deserve! If I was feeling really bitchy, I might even tell you to hold my legs open for him while he’s fucking me!”

Her last two sentences did it! Climax literally tore through me, cutting its heady way through my upper thighs to explode at the base of my cock, sending tendrils of sheer ecstasy though my whole body! Angela felt my climax begin; I didn’t squirt – I flowed – and she quickly took my glans between her lips and sucked it. She stared deeply into my eyes as she literally milked me with her soft, warm, sucking mouth. She gave me a slow, teasing wink as her tongue firmly rasped the underside of my glans, spiraling me away beyond the ceiling and up through the roof, faster and faster, ever upwards. I screamed her name, over and over and over…

*****

When I came back down to earth, Angela was still softly sucking me. I was literally gasping for breath, and my whole body shook and trembled. She gazed up at me, her eyes alight. She let my cock slide gently from her lips.

“Mmmm, you taste so yummy, lover,” she whispered softly. “Was that good, baby?”

I went to answer her, but I could only utter a croak. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Never so good,” I squeaked.

“Did you cum hard, baby?”

I nodded. “It was the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever had!” I whispered truthfully.

Angela’s face lit up with a smile. “Mmm, good, baby! I know it’s been so long since it’s happened.”

She rose up from her knees and leaned in to embrace me, kissing me softly but very deeply; I could taste myself on her lips. I was still panting and trembling, and Angela slid back onto the couch beside me. She sat beside me for a few minutes as I slowly caught my breath, and she then arose and got us a drink from the kitchen.

We spent the next half-hour softly talking about what had just occurred, and about the dream in general. Angela was typically inquisitive, wanting to know how it felt as she had fondled and caressed me to climax, and which of her questions had excited me the most. I held nothing back – I was still floating in the soft haze of afterglow, and it was easy to be candid.

“So, baby?” she finally said. “The thought of me screwing another guy while you’re taking the medication to keep you limp is really making you that hot?”

I waited a few seconds before answering her. “Yes – it is,” I finally told her softly.

She nodded and gave me a tender smile. “I think that was the part that excited you most – you really began shaking as soon as I mentioned that bit, and your balls tightened, as well.”

“Well, I have no idea why it turns me on so much – but it does,” I told her.

“One thing surprised me,” she announced, “And that’s how much you enjoyed me being so bitchy.”

I blushed slightly. “I guess it’s all to do with the tease, maybe,” I replied. “And in a lotta ways it fits in with that whole fantasy. Imagining you being like that and saying things like that is extremely erotic.”

She grinned impishly. “So I see, lover. I’ll make good use of that in future, too!”

I smiled. “Oh, I have no doubt that you will.”

She gave me a long look, and then said: “Do you still think about me doing it for real? Sleeping with someone else, I mean?”

“All the time,” I replied. “A lot more since the accident, I guess.”

“So it’d really excite you if I did do it for real? Even though you’re taking those damned pills to keep you soft, I mean?”

“Yes,” I affirmed. “I think that because I can’t have real intercourse with you right now that it’s even more intense than usual.”

“So what would you say if I told you that Debbie’s sister is having her Hen’s night next Friday, and that they’ve invited me to go. I told them that I probably couldn’t make it – but I can soon change my mind. Would it drive you wild if I went, honey?”

A soft quiver of excitement danced through me. “It would drive me absolutely fucking insane,” I replied softly.

My wife sent me a half-smile. “I have absolutely no doubt that it would; after seeing your reaction to some of the things I told you tonight, I am fully aware of what it would do to you.”

“If you did go, I’d be wondering what you’re doing – all night,” I mused in a trembling voice. “Where’s she having her Hen’s night?”

“At a club in town, honey,” Angela told me. Her eyes suddenly sparkled. “You do know how wild and uninhibited a bunch of frisky girls can get at a Hen’s night, don’t you?”

I nodded. “Yes,” My mouth suddenly felt dry.

“And if I do go, you know that there’ll probably be a ton of horny young guys trying to hit on us too, don’t you?”

“I’m sure there would be,” I panted.

Angela’s sexy grin widened. “And what about if some hot young guy tried picking me up at the club, lover? Would you want me to be a good girl – or a bad girl?” Angela asked in a silky voice.

An almost deliciously masochistic quiver slithered through my loins. “Are you asking me if it’s okay for you to make this really happen?” I asked, my stomach fluttering.

Angela smiled sweetly. “I guess I am – yes.”

My stomach suddenly did flip-flops. After playing with the idea of bringing the fantasy to life for so long, it had finally come down to this moment. A lecherous wave of desire and lust pounded through me.

“You’d really go through with it?” I asked shakily.

“Oh, yeah, honey,” she replied. “I would.”

“Then maybe you should do it,” I heard myself tell her softly. My legs had gone shaky.

She smiled. “Maybe I should. But before I do, have you really thought it through? If I do decide to make it happen, have you thought about later on, after it’s actually happened?”

I paused for a few seconds; Angela was offering to make my most lascivious and hot fantasy become real. I knew that she would never do it if it threatened our relationship in any way. I finally nodded. “Yes – I have.”

“You’ll be able to handle it okay?”

I nodded again and swallowed what little saliva I had left in my mouth. “It won’t change how you feel for me, will it?”

“Of course not, baby!” she replied. “I would be doing it mostly because it’s been a fantasy of yours for so long. I would not be doing it because I want out of our marriage. I love you Michael, and if I do decide to make it real for you, it’ll be done mainly for that reason.”

“I know that, baby,” I told her. “I love you too, and I know what you mean.”

“Well, we’ll talk about it a lot more later, okay? If we do go through with it, I want to know that it’s really what you want, baby.”

I nodded. “Can I ask you a few questions?” I inquired.

“Fire away, honey.”

“Are you still missing actual intercourse?”

“Yes – I miss it a lot.” she replied, and then short-circuited me by asking: “Do you want to know if us not being able to have penetrative sex is making me hot for other men?”

I swallowed. “I guess so, yes.”

She pondered for a few seconds. “It’s certainly making me think about intercourse a lot more – but not necessarily with other men.”

“But you have thought about doing it with someone else?”

“Honestly? Yes – I have.” She gave me a long, almost abashed look. “Not very often I might add, but I admit I do think about it if I see a really good-looking guy.” She again paused for a moment and sent me a teasing half-smile. “And after tonight, what would you say if I was to think about it a lot more? Do you think I could find myself a hot little playmate at the club next Friday?”

I swallowed sharply again. “I’m sure you could.”

“Well, as I said,” she replied. “We’ll talk about it a bit more before Friday – just to give you time to really think it over, honey.”

I nodded again. My heart was pounding.

She suddenly uttered a low chuckle. “Hmm, I just thought of a sneaky little plan…”

“What is it?” I eagerly asked.

She shook her head. “Never mind – it’ll be a surprise, lover! Telling you now would spoil it – but just know that if I do go to the Hen’s night and if I do happen to hook-up with someone next Friday, then afterwards you’ll be sure to know exactly what happened,” She finished with a wink.

I tried to wheedle the plan from her, but Angela refused to budge – except to say that it would excite me a lot. She then gave me a sexy look, and said:

“And by the way? I finished my period yesterday, honey, as you probably guessed.” Her smile turned into a leer and she lifted the hem of her dressing gown suggestively. “Fancy a nice, juicy taco, baby?” she asked.

After the little chat we’d just had, I sure as hell did! Our previous positions on the couch were reversed – this time with me doing the kneeling and her doing the moaning – and Angela’s clenched fingers in my hair soon guided me to exactly where she wanted me.

As I ate her creamy cunt, my mind was torridly thinking about what Angela could get up to at the Hen’s night next Friday – with a lot of justification, as it turned out.

To be continued….