The Impotence Files: Take Your Medicine, Honey: Part 4
By Micky D
“How do I look, honey?” my wife asked me.
I quickly turned my attention from the television show that I had been watching and focused my gaze on Angela as she stood framed in the lounge-room doorway. My hungry eyes slowly floated over her a couple of times, from eye-line to ankle.
“You look absolutely gorgeous,” I finally told her.
And she did. It was 7:00pm on Friday night, and Angela had just finished dressing in preparation for her night out with the girls. Yes – she had decided to go to the Hen’s night.
She was wearing a slinky cream-colored skirt with a hemline that hovered perhaps six or seven inches above her knees. Her torso was encased in what I can best describe as a lacy red top that resembled a glorified sports singlet; it was almost like a snug fitting corset which had been sewn onto the bottom of a bikini bra, and it hung over her shoulders on spaghetti-thin straps. The neckline wasn’t overly deep but it still offered the observer a generous glimpse of cleavage, and the cup of her breasts was amply evident under the swell of the taut, sculpted material. A loose black jacket and black high heels completed the ensemble.
Angela had also outdone herself in the bathroom; she had blow-waved her long blonde tresses into soft undulating waves. She didn’t need a lot of make-up at the best of times, but tonight she had enhanced her dazzling green eyes with mascara and eye-shadow, and her lips gleamed moistly with soft red lipstick. Angela had made the most of the recent late spring sunshine, and her freshly-shaven legs glowed with a modest tan.
Gazing at her, the overall effect of her alluring attire was sophisticated and classy – but absolutely sexy. Seductive was the first word that sprang to mind. She smiled at me and turned a playful pirouette, and I drank in the sight of her tight calf muscles and her curvaceous backside that resembled an inverted cartoon heart. The wicked little carnal buzz began hammering at me yet again.
“Do you like my new top, honey?” she asked when she had completed her pirouette.
“Very nice,” I replied truthfully.
“I picked it up yesterday,” she informed me. Her eyes flashed. “I don’t need to wear a bra under it,” she added, almost playfully. “It has one kinda built in to it.”
I nodded and swallowed involuntarily. My wife sent me a knowing smile and strode over to where I was sitting. She sank down to perch herself on my lap. Her rich perfume enveloped me, and the warmth of her thighs pressed onto mine.
“Are you still okay with this, baby?” she asked softly, sliding her arm around my neck. “You’re okay with me going to the Hen’s night?”
I slowly nodded. “Yeah, hun – I’m perfectly fine with it. If I seem jumpy, it’s just because…” I hesitated.
“Because you’re thinking about what I might do tonight, lover?” Angela smoothly added, completing my sentence.
“And you’re still perfectly okay with me having a little fun if I get the chance, honey?”
I nodded again. “Yes. Jesus, do you have any idea what the thought is doing to me?”
Angela’s lilting smile widened. “Oh, yes, honey. I know it’s been a fantasy of yours for a long time, honey – and I know what it’s doing to you to think about it possibly becoming real.” She paused for a second. “Especially now,” she added. I knew she was referring to my inability to get an erection, and I drew a sharp, excited breath.
We had, in fact, discussed her jaunt to the Hen’s night on several occasions in the last five days. Angela had wanted to be sure that I was ready for this final leap into unknown territory. She had again made it absolutely clear that if she did do anything tonight, then it was because she loved me, and because she wanted to let me experience my fantasy at the ultimate level. She had also told me that she was very pleased and gratified that I had enough faith and confidence in our love to allow her the chance to play outside of our marriage.
She did, however, also admit that the notion of her engaging in some illicit sex was extremely enticing. This admission naturally augmented my own arousal. I had excitedly asked her several more questions about how much the thought of finding a lover turned her on – but she had coyly deflected my queries, apart from teasingly telling me that it had been seven months since she’d had sexual intercourse, and that my dream had perhaps been right – she just might need it.
She now squirmed on my lap and her smile became a sexy little leer. “So will you be thinking about me while I’m out tonight, baby?”
“Oh, yeah – constantly!” I answered. My excited tone underscored my reply
“Well, just keep thinking about me until I get home, honey,” Angela playfully said. “I’m sure you’ll wait up for me,” She winked and kissed me softly. She arose to her feet. “Well, I suppose I’d better head off.”
I swallowed again and nodded, getting to my feet and following her into the kitchen. She picked up her car keys and large leather purse.
“You won’t drink too much tonight, will you?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “No, baby – three standard drinks will be my limit tonight. I’m not risking my driver’s licence.”
She started to slide her purse into an inner pocket of her jacket. She paused thoughtfully for a few seconds before drawing it back out, sending me a playful smile.
“I also picked something else up yesterday, too,” she said mischievously. She opened the purse, and lifted out a small cardboard box. My heart suddenly pounded.
“I thought I’d better get some – just in case,” she playfully chirped. I glanced down at the small packet of condoms before she slid them back into her purse.
“Oh my God!” I uttered in a tight voice. The buzz clicked up about ten notches.
Angela giggled. “I though that might get your attention!” she purred. She tucked her purse into the pocket inside her jacket.
“You know that I’m going to be a fucking wreck when you get home don’t you?” I whispered huskily to her. She leaned in and kissed me. Her warm, moist tongue slithered over my lips.
“I’ll make sure of it, honey,” she replied smoothly. “Well, I’m gonna head off, lover. If I run into any problems, I’ll give you a quick call to let you know.”
I nodded. My pulse was still racing.
She embraced me, and kissed me again. “I should be home at around midnight, or even a little later, okay?”
“I love you, Michael.”
“I love you too, Angie.”
Her broad grin reappeared. “Have fun tonight, lover.”
“I’ll try. You have fun, too,” I replied tightly.
“Oh, I’ll certainly try, honey!” she playfully quipped. She gave me a soft final kiss and strode to the front door. She was half way out when she turned back to face me. “Oh! By the way? If I do happen to meet a hot little playmate tonight, I’m still going to go though with that little plan I told you about the other night – so I might have a little surprise for you when I get home. See you later tonight, lover!” With a final teasing wink, she was gone. The front door shut with a thump of finality.
As I listened to her high-heels clicking down the front steps, I wondered about her last remark. I had previously tried to find out what her mysterious plan was, but she had teasingly stonewalled me. I listened as her car emitted a muffled bark, and then watched as she reversed down the driveway and drove off – giving my two fruity toots of her car horn in farewell.
I glanced around the lounge-room with my heart still pounding.
It was going to be a long, slow, tortuous night.
What does one do when one’s spouse is out gallivanting and carousing with the full knowledge that she is perfectly at liberty to commit sexual misconduct? I’ll tell you – one goes slowly insane with arousal and desire.
And I can assure you that if you don’t even have the means to slake your own lust – as I didn’t – then the almost deliciously masochistic anticipation is amplified.
After Angela had been able to stimulate me to climax with a combination of her gentle oral ministrations accompanied by a lascivious narrative a few nights ago, I had surreptitiously tried to repeat the episode myself whilst she was at work. But to my dismay I found that stimulating myself was not the same as having Angela do it for me. Whether this was due to a mixture of the physical and possibly psychological effects of the medication I was taking, I don’t know. I had once read that if you tickled yourself, you couldn’t get the same involuntary reaction as if someone else was tickling you – something to do with nerve interactions, or some other medical mumbo-jumbo.
It was perhaps the same with my current situation; I found that no matter how much I was able to emulate what Angela had done a few nights ago, I could not make myself climax in my flaccid state. It became apparent that in order to reach orgasm, I needed her to do it, and to listen to one of her lewd and incredibly erotic narratives as she did so.
Angela, evincing her shrewd female intuition, had later offhandedly asked me if I had tried to repeat what she had done. I somewhat guiltily admitted that I had, but that I couldn’t duplicate what she had been able to achieve. She had been intrigued, but she had also smiled and added that she found it exquisitely delightful that I could climax – but only if she was doing the stimulating. She had actually sent me a teasing leer and said: “Ah! So no cuming for you until I want you to cum, baby! Isn’t that bitchy of me?”
I had actually asked her to try doing it again – but she smilingly shook her head and wickedly told me that we should maybe wait until she got home on Friday night before trying it again. Angela was well aware just how much this would wind me up – and she was right. Wind me up it did, and it actually excited me even more; Angela and I had occasionally played with mild tease and denial games in the past, which I found to be a huge turn-on. The way we had played it was for her to deny me intercourse, but for me to keep her happy by performing cunnilingus on her.
But when we had played such games, we had only managed to last three or four days because Angela herself usually became so aroused as I orally pleased her that she would say to hell with the game, and urgently tell me to mount her. Now, however, circumstances were far more conducive to tease and denial play; since Angela couldn’t have intercourse with me anyway, she was now far more willing and able to extend the game; she knew just how much it would drive me wild to have to await her pleasure – and so the deliciously wicked carnal circle continued.
So this was my current situation; I was able to climax – but only at a time of Angela’s choosing and with her complete co-operation.
And now I was sat alone on a Friday evening, waiting at home as my gorgeous wife was attending a bachelorette party, knowing that she had my full permission to indulge her libido if the chance presented itself. And with her looking as gorgeous as she did, I knew it was a fair bet that a chance would indeed present itself; she would suffer no shortage of appreciative male glances tonight. Was it any wonder I felt like I had overdosed on a very potent aphrodisiac?
I heaved a trembling sigh, and sat down to watch the TV – trying to ignore the lascivious little buzz that vibrated through me like a persistent swarm of lecherous bees.
I watched TV for a couple of hours or so. I would often glance up at the clock mounted on the wall, only to find that time seemed to wade through a pool of treacle. I arose and played a few games on the PC for another hour or two. Little flitting images of Angela dancing with some hot young guy kept filtering through my thoughts.
I looked at the clock.
I shut down the PC game, and absentmindedly started a web browser. I was instantly confronted with Google’s search page. I pondered for a few moments, and then – led by some weird masochistic urge – I typed in:
‘Hens night sex’.
I hit the enter key, and Google dutifully responded. A list of web sites featuring mainly porn filled the screen. Almost of its own volition, my finger clicked the left mouse button over one of them.
I was taken to a page that was laced with images of women merrily reveling at bachelorette parties and hen’s nights. Male strippers flitted amongst the carousing ladies, and this seemed to be eagerly received by members of both genders. The gaudy slogans on the site proclaimed things like:
‘Hot, Horny Women Go Wild For Strippers!’, and ‘Is Your Wife or Girlfriend Inside?’, and ‘Cradle-Snatching MILFs Crave Big-Cocked Strippers!’
I could usually either take or leave porn, and actually Angela enjoyed it more than I did. But in my current state I sat almost hungrily drinking in the images of fully clothed women gazing lustfully at well-built guys in various states of dress (or, more accurately, undress). Well-oiled torsos seemed to be the order of the day, and the male strippers’ lean, shiny bodies seemed to mesmerize many of the ladies, who for the most part displayed expressions varying from delighted shock all the way up to pure lust. In fact, on the next site I visited there were pictures of women actually performing fellatio on some of the strippers, and licking canned whipped cream from their cocks and so forth. My ever-present buzz intensified, and I gazed at the screen with as much rapt attention as a scientist peering down a microscope.
There were also video samples on this site. I couldn’t help myself; I downloaded one of them. I was startled by what I saw.
The video footage began by showing what looked to be a dim club bar-room. The camera panned abruptly to the left to show a slim, short-haired woman of about forty years of age. She was bending forward at the waist to lean over the bar, and stepping out of her panties as she did so. Behind her, a young male stripper wearing nothing but a g-string reached down and lifted her skirt over her back. The woman parted her legs, leering over her shoulder at the well-oiled hunk behind her. The stripper then proceeded to ease his cock from his g-string, and then slid it into her pussy from behind. Loud music pumped in the background, but it wasn’t enough to drown out her delighted squeal of pleasure as he entered her. Just beyond the humping couple was another group of about five dancing women, who simply nudged eachother and pointed, all of them smiling and laughing as they watched the stripper openly fucking the slim woman. Other female patrons drifted in and out of shot – some of them even ordering drinks at the bar alongside the copulating pair, as if a couple screwing in public was all perfectly normal.
I sat stunned. The video did not seem contrived or fabricated, and it had all the hallmarks of being a real bachelorette party. The quality was good, but lacked the artificial sharpness and scripting of a staged porn flick. The site had stated that the footage was genuine, and I could believe it.
I downloaded another film. In this episode, the camera panned across a sea of maybe thirty women dancing to the beat of loud music (with the odd male stripper dotted like a well-oiled and practically naked island in their midst). The camera panned further to the right, and it suddenly drifted downwards.
There, on what looked to be a low, sturdy coffee table, was sprawled a buxom brunette, perhaps Angela’s age. She was lying on her back with her short dress lifted high above her hips and her shapely legs spread wide. In fact, I could see her white panties dangling from her left ankle like a dead animal. A completely naked male stripper was enthusiastically mounting her in the missionary position. I could also hear the brunette moaning and imploring him to fuck her. And it wasn’t only her voicing encouragement; standing in a ring around the writhing couple were four other fully clothed women – apparently friends of the brunette – and two of them were actually shouting down catcalls and lewd suggestions. The other two ladies clapped and laughed as they watched. The footage also captured other women passing by, clasping drinks in their hands and smiling down at the pair as the stripper’s hips rose and fell between the brunette’s outstretched thighs. The camera zoomed in to linger on the brunette’s hands firmly gripping his tight, pumping buttocks – and my mouth dropped open as I saw the wedding ring on her finger.
Once again, the film bore all the marks of it being a real Hen’s night; some of the women, although not very many, moved quickly out of shot or turned their faces away when they saw the camera. Most of them didn’t care, however, and many even yelled enthusiastically into the camera as they cheered and pointed to the fucking couple below them.
I realised that I was panting as I sat in front of the monitor. I had known that some Hen’s nights could be wild – as Angela had stated – but not this wild. The two copulating women in the videos that I had just watched had shown no abashment or embarrassment as dozens of other women gazed at them openly enjoying this brazen sexual act, and the watchers had likewise expressed neither shock or censure – in fact, most of the women seemed to be relishing the free live porn show.
My thoughts quickly drifted to Angela’s current whereabouts. I was almost certain that the function she was attending wouldn’t be as debauched and lewd as what I had witnessed on the films – the venue where the risquâ€š videos took place was obviously a private party at a male strip club or somewhere similar. But it did perhaps give me an insight into the mindset of a group of frisky women out for a wild night without their men. The ages of the women in the videos had ranged from their early twenties up to their fifties, and I had noted that many of them – in addition to the horny brunette being pounded on the coffee table – wore wedding bands or engagement rings. They’d cheered, hooted and clapped as ardently as those who weren’t wearing rings, and possibly more so.
My heart pounded a little harder. I forced myself to leave the web site. In fact, I turned the PC off altogether.
One of the slogans I had seen on the web site – ‘Cradle-Snatching MILFs Crave Big-Cocked Strippers!’ – lingered in my thoughts. Most of the muscular strippers I had seen in the films were young, and seemed more than willing to be cradle-snatched. In fact, the stripper who had fucked the woman leaning down on the bar looked almost young enough to be her son. I suddenly wondered if my sexy thirty-two-year-old wife would be attracted to one of the handsome young strippers. If she elected to snatch his cradle, then I’m sure that he’d be just as eager to conversely cradle her snatch.
I glanced at the clock.
Angela had told me she would return home soon after midnight, but I instinctively knew that it might be much later than this. I realised that my hands were now trembling constantly, and that the later it got, the more the sensation of almost masochistic carnality slithered through my veins with greater intensity. I wondered if at this very moment my gorgeous wife was panting underneath some muscular stud, telling him how good his hard cock felt inside of her. I wondered if she would carry out her threat to tell her lover that I was unable to satisfy her. I uttered a frustrated groan and tried to watch TV. My cock was the only thing not tingling – the rest of me slowly fermented in a bubbling cauldron of lascivious anticipation. Many cuckolds might have recognized the nervous fluttering in my stomach.
The clock ticked as I watched the TV, my mind hardly taking in what my eyes were seeing. Several times I thought I heard a car pulling into the driveway, and my heart raced. They proved to be false alarms. At one point a wooden beam in the roof must have cooled sufficiently to allow it to settle, and it make a sharp crack! This wasn’t unusual – the beam often did this, but I was so wound up that I nearly jumped out of my chair at the sudden but familiar noise.
I looked at the clock again.
Several minutes later my heart leapt up to my throat as I heard the soft purr of Angela’s car pull up into the driveway. I was now trembling in earnest, and my mouth went dry. I rose to my feet and breathlessly waited, my heart pounding. A minute later, I heard the muffled click, click, click of Angela’s high-heels ascending the front stairway, and a few seconds later the front door opened, and my wife walked in.
Her warm green eyes gazed into mine, and she smiled. “Hiya, baby,” she said.
“Hi, hun,” I croaked. I cleared my throat as she approached me. She embraced me and kissed me very softly. A waft of her rich perfume enveloped me, and I hungrily inhaled her aroma. Her warm, tender lips sent trills of pleasure through me. The kiss deepened, and we softly kissed for about three minutes.
We finally broke the kiss.
“How was your night?” I asked, forcing myself to keep my voice steady.
Angela smiled. “It was good, baby. Debbie’s sister invited about twenty of us, so we all had a good time,” Her eyes glittered. “But that’s not what you’re asking, is it, lover? You’re trembling. You want to know if I enjoyed myself, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I replied shakily.
“Do you want to know if I was a good girl or a bad girl?”
“Then follow me, lover. I have heaps to tell you…”
She sent me her teasing little half-smile, and simply took my hand. She led me into the master bedroom at the front of the house. I followed on legs that shook so much that I’m surprised my knees didn’t knock together.
We entered the dark bedroom and reached the side of the bed. Angela tapped one of the bedside touch lamps on, and the room was instantly bathed in soft light. She turned to me. “Why don’t you get undressed, baby?” she purred.
I quickly undid my shirt and almost ripped it off. My jeans and briefs followed, and I sat down on the bed to slide them and my socks and sneakers off. Angela had simply kicked her high-heels off, and then stood watching me with that exciting half-smile as I disrobed.
“Lay back on the bed, baby,” she softly instructed. I did as she asked.
Angela slowly loosened her skirt, and eased it down her sexy long legs. I stifled a gasp when I saw that she was once again sans panties. I could see her neatly trimmed pubic mound in the dim light. She was still oddly wearing her black jacket and red top, but completely naked from the waist down.
She giggled at my excited expression. “Yeah – no knickers again, honey. But when did I take them off?”
With that, she swung herself over me on the bed, straddling me. Her warm thighs clasped my hips, but she kept her pelvis raised. I glanced down to see her pussy hovering an inch above my limp cock.
“Now, honey?” she began, “Are you really sure that you meant what you said about me being able to play?”
A carnal ripple of almost staggering proportions tore through me.
“Yes!” I gasped.
“So what if I was to tell you that I did hook-up with a sexy playmate tonight?”
“OH GOD!” I moaned. “Did you?”
Angela’s serene smile deepened.
I almost climaxed right then. My whole body shook, and my heart felt like it was going to explode. I moaned aloud and arched my back, wanting to drive my flaccid member upward towards her pussy!
She reached down and wrapped her fingers around my limp cock. She gently lifted it upright and slowly seesawed the soft head between her labia. I could instantly feel how wet and slippery she was, and I excitedly wondered if she was still moist from recent intercourse. When my glans was nestled fully between her pussy-lips, she delicately lowered her warm thighs fully onto mine; the moist, creamy heat of her cunt enveloped my cock like a slick cocoon. I whimpered softly again as she began rocking her hips gently back and forth, softly massaging my glans within her pussy.
“Feel good, honey?” she purred.
“Jesus, YES!” I wailed. “Please tell me, Angie! What happened?”
Angela smiled down at me. “Okay – right from the start. Well, his name was Jason, and he hit on me almost as soon as I walked in the door of the club, lover,”
“Did he?” I panted. My lower stomach and thighs felt tense and hot.
“Mmm, yes he did,” my wife replied smoothly. “He was a real cutie, too. About six feet tall, and a really yummy body. He came up to the bar as I was getting my first drink, and he looked at me and said that he thought he’d seen me before. Maybe he had – he might’ve seen me when I was out making sales, or most likely it was just a bullshit pick-up line. Anyway, he offered to buy me a drink – so I let him.”
I panted underneath her. Her hips seesawed, and enveloping pussy moistly clutched at my cock, sending a lascivious message through my loins.
“I had a few dances with him, in between raving and shooting the shit with the other girls at the Hen’s party. He told me that I had beautiful eyes, honey. I have to tell you that I flirted with him – that was ok, wasn’t it?”
“Yes!” I gasped. Her hips were continuously grinding her molten pussy against my cock.
“Oh!” Angela suddenly exclaimed. “Take a guess how old he was, lover?”
“Jesus, how old?” I asked shakily.
“Twenty-five, honey. Is that young enough for you?” Angela giggled. “Let’s see – that’s almost fifteen years younger than you, honey! Just like in your kinky little dream!”
All I could do was moan in reply.
“Well – to cut a long story short,” Angela continued softly. “I danced with him a few more times, and most of the other girls were all doing their own thing – so I asked him if he wanted to go somewhere a little more private.”
“Oh my GOD!” I blurted. “You asked him?” For some reason, the idea that my wife had initiated any subsequent encounter simply added to the wicked eroticism of what she was telling me.
Angela uttered a sexy chuckle. “Yes, I did, lover. He’d seen my wedding ring, and he asked if I was married. I told him that I was – but that it was okay, because my hubby was in Sydney right now. You don’t mind if I told him a little white lie like that, do you, honey?”
“NO!” I yelled. I could feel my glans settle a touch deeper between her soft labia as her hips continually undulated and rocked.
“He told me that he was house-sitting for his uncle this month while his uncle was overseas, and we could go back there if I wanted to. Wasn’t that handy, honey? That he had a nice, quiet place for us to go to when we left the club?”
“Yes!” I listened to her words with almost a sense of surrealism – as if she was talking about someone else.
“I had to be a little sneaky, honey. I didn’t want Debbie and her sister and god knows who else seeing me leave with him – so I told him to meet me outside the club in fifteen minutes.”
“And did you?” I quavered.
“Yes – I did. Ten minutes later I went and told Debbie that I was heading home early. Jason was waiting for me outside. He knew I had my car there, and he told me to follow him back to the house. And follow him I did. I pulled into the driveway behind him, and then we went inside.”
“Did you kiss him, Angie?” I gasped shrilly
“After we got inside? Yes – I did.”
I choked back another long moan.
“He made us a drink,” my wife continued, “And we sat on the couch for a bit, just talking – and then we just kissed. He was a good kisser, too, lover.”
I could feel a rivulet of her pussy juice trickling warmly down my balls as her pelvis continued to massage my cock inside of her enveloping cunt.
“Jesus, what happened then?” I screeched.
“He asked me if I wanted to go up to the bedroom, honey.”
“Did you go?” I gargled.
“Of course I did!”
“Did you let him fuck you?” I almost screamed.
Angela looked down at me, her green eyes sparkling in the low lamplight. “And what if I did let him fuck me? Is that okay, baby?”
“YES! I want you to!” I blurted
“Then you’re in luck – because he did fuck me, baby. He fucked me hard. So, lover? You’re now a cuckold – for real – just like you always wanted!”
I let out a long, carnal moan! Little waves of almost perverse pleasure darted back and forth inside of me like little electric shocks. She had done it – she had really cucked me!
I saw Angela reaching into her jacket, and she brought forth her large leather purse; she snapped it open and withdrew the box of condoms. Without another word, she opened it up and pulled out a plastic strip. She smiled down at me and turned it towards me; the rubber rings lay curled snugly next to eachother under their see-through coating – except for one empty socket, where the plastic had been roughly torn open.
“See, honey? I told you that I might need them,” My wife winked at me.
Another molten wave of almost masochistic pleasure danced through me. I gazed at the packet. “OH JESUS, JESUS!” I almost wailed.
My wife tossed to packet to the floor, and her eyes glittered. “Do you wanna hear what happened next, baby?”
“Jesus, yes! Please tell me!”
Angela giggled again. “Tell you? Oh, no, honey. I won’t tell you…”
She reached into the inside pocket on the other side of her jacket.
“That’s my little surprise, honey – my little plan worked. I won’t tell you…” Here she paused for an agonising few seconds. “Instead? You’ll hear what happened.”
She withdrew her hand from the inside of her jacket, and she held aloft the silver micro-cassette recorder that she sometimes used at work when she wanted to take spoken notes about an order, or to record a quick memo to herself. It suddenly struck me what she had done.
She had recorded the sounds of her cuckolding Me.
I felt another wave of scintillating, almost perverse pleasure tear along my loins.
Angela flashed her teasing smile and glanced down at me. “Is that okay, baby? I turned the recorder on when I went to use his bathroom, and I just popped it back in my jacket – just before he took me up to the bedroom, lover. I hung my jacket on the handle of the wardrobe beside the bed,” She winked down at me. “Do you want to hear him fucking me? I rewound it in the car to exactly the moment when he’s just about to slide his cock into me. Want to listen, lover?
“OH MY GOD – YES!” I screamed. My wife’s creamy pussy suddenly clenched a little tighter around my glans, and I could feel a building orgasm begin to flutter in my loins.
Angela uttered another soft giggle and placed the little recorder on the bed beside me. I turned my head to see her raise the volume up to full. She quickly slipped off her black jacket and tossed it to the floor, and she then pressed the ‘Play’ button on the silver recorder.
The tinny hiss of playback leapt forth. The little speaker suddenly rang with a soft feminine sigh. Angela’s voice!
“He’s just about to put it inside me, baby – listen.” Her pelvis rocked back and forth like a happy boat in a rough swell. My limp cock nestled into her steamy cunt even deeper.
I listened, shaking and trembling, and then I heard voices.
Angela: Ahh! Oh, Jesus, yeah! Put it in!
Angela: Oooooh! YEAH! Oh, shit, it’s so BIG!
Jason: God, you’re wet!
Angela: Fuck me! Fuck me, Jason!
A thin slapping sound issued from the little speaker – the solid, sharp collision of skin against skin.
“Mmm…” the real Angela softly said. “He’s starting to fuck me, honey.”
The tinny slapping sped slightly, and I could hear the thin creaking of bedsprings adding to the rhythmic erotic pulse:
Angela: Arrrrgh, that’s it, Jason! Give it to me!
Jason: Spread your legs a bit more… YEAH, like that! – wide open for me…
I could hear the wet smacking of lips adding to the rising tumult; they were kissing passionately as they were coupling: Smack!… Crick!… Smack!… Slurp! The bedsprings chipped in at a slightly higher tone: Squeak!… Squeak!… Squeak!… Squeak! Angela’s voice rang from the recorder again:
Angela: Fuck me!… Fuck me HARD!
Jason: Christ, you’re so fuckin’ hot, Angie!
Angela: Am I nice and tight for you?
Jason: Yeah! – you’re SO tight! Christ, you’ve got a gorgeous body!
Angela: Mmm, thank you! And you have such a big, hard cock!
Angela lifted her hips slightly and took my drenched cock between her fingers. She then started to slide the soft head rapidly back and forth between the lips of her pussy. The sensation literally took my breath away; I glanced up at her beautiful face, and I was stunned to see my own lust reflected in her expression. I realised that not only were her ministrations sending waves of ecstasy through me, but she was also stimulating herself by rubbing my glans against her clit.
The squeaking bedsprings on the tape got even louder and faster, and Angela’s cries of passion rose to match. The slap of flesh against flesh became more resonant.
“Listen, lover,” Angela huskily whispered down at me. “Can you hear him fucking me,? Can you hear his balls slapping against my ass? Can you hear him slamming his big, thick, hard cock inside me?”
“Yes!” I screeched. Angela slid my glans back and forth through her labia with even greater fervor. I could feel the orgasm which had been circling for the last few minutes building inside me. I moaned loudly again and listened to my wife cuckolding me!
Angela’s glazed eyes peered down at me again. “Listen, Michael! Very soon, I’m gonna say something very bitchy, and I want you to hear it!”
I listened intently to the tape; sure enough, a few seconds later I heard Angela’s encouraging moans and gasps cease as she spoke again:
Angela: Oh my GOD, Jason! It feels so good! You’re so good… So BIG! You fuck me so much better than my husband!
Jason: Do I, Sexy?
Angela: Jesus, yeah! Do you like fucking my married pussy?
Jason: Fuck, yeah!
Angela: Give to me!… GIVE IT TO ME! Awww, JESUS!… it’s been so long since I had a big, hard cock in me!… Please make me CUM!
Jason: I’m going to! I’ll make you fuckin’ cum, alright!
I tilted my head back and screamed. Hearing Angela say this to her young lover was simply the most carnal, erotic and totally lascivious thing I had ever heard! Climax suddenly jumped closer, and a delicious warmth spread up my thighs. The oily friction of Angela’s creamy cunt rippled through me as she rubbed the head of my cock against her clit. I even felt a slither of pre-cum leak from me, adding to her own creamy secretions. The sheer carnality of what was happening tore a path through me.
I stared up at my wife’s beautiful face. She tilted her head back and emitted a soft moan. Her gaze slid down to me again. “It’s so hot to hear what he’s doing to me, baby!” she gasped. “He’s gonna make me cum!”
My own orgasm rippled and danced even closer as I listened to the grunts and moans and the squeaking bedsprings that issued from the recorder. Tendrils of heat worked their way into my loins as unctuous waves of ecstasy jolted through me like a million needles. Angela’s pants and cries of lust pouring from the little speaker filled my mind; I listened to her, silently urging her to cum – I wanted to hear her lustful moans flood the room, to listen to her climax as she cuckolded me!
On the tape. Angela was beseeching her lover:
Angela: YEAH!… KEEP GOING, BABY!… OHHH, JASON!… I’M GONNA CUM!… PLEASE KEEP FUCKING ME!… PLEASE!
Jason: Jesus, your so fuckin’ HOT!… CUM for me! Cream my fuckin’ cock!
Angela! Ohhhh!… OHHHHHH!… YES!… YES!… OHHHHH, JESUS, NOW!… NOW!… I’M CUMING!… AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
I could feel Angela’s hips shaking as she listened to herself climax. My loins went white hot as the recorded Angela wailed and moaned. I teetered on the brink, the tension in my lower body almost tightening to snapping point! On the tape, I heard a further exchange that pushed me over the edge!
Jason: Argh, Jesus, I’m gonna blow!
Angela: DO IT! CUM FOR ME, BABY! CUM!
Jason: Oh, fuck! OH, FUCK HERE IT COMES! ARRRRRGH!
I climaxed just as Jason’s own orgasmic celebration flooded the room. I could feel my semen trickling out of my soft cock like molten lead, coating Angela’s creamy pussy lips and clitoris. I unleashed a moan like I had never done before as climax rippled through me, jerking my body in an uncontrollable convulsion. Angela kept sliding my glans rapidly against her clit, moaning and gasping.
She looked down at me. “Jesus, Michael! I need to cum! Please lick me! PLEASE!”
Even through my orgasmic daze, I realised I had never seen her so excited. Without hesitation I slid my hands under her thighs and cupped her ass cheeks, and pulled her up towards me. She hurriedly made her way up my body on her knees until her drenched cunt hovered over my face. She lowered her pelvis with a grateful moan, and the pussy I had licked and worshiped and adored for almost five beautiful years – the pussy that just a couple of hours ago had accommodated another man’s hard, throbbing cock, making me a true cuckold, the pussy that I had just coated with my own heady release – that pussy sank wetly onto my eager mouth.
She unleashed a sharp moan as I quickly found her clit and sucked it. Angela’s warm upper thighs clutched at the sides of my face as she ground her cunt firmly down onto me.
Angela moaned loudly. “OHHH, Yeah!… Suck it!… Suck it!… SUCK IT, SUCK IT, SUCK IT!”
In seconds her thighs gave a violent shudder, and she let out a long howl of ecstasy as her own orgasm pulsed though her loins. I sucked and sucked and sucked. My hands cupped her ass cheeks and pulled her erupting cunt deeper onto me.
My only thought as I began to swallow her rich cream was that after tonight, nothing would ever be the same again.
To be continued….