The Loan
An SPH Experience by joshycucky.
That’s not how I expected this story to start, but here we are.
—
We’ve known Izzy and Jeff since college. They’re our best couple friends—the kind of people you share everything with. Vacation plans, financial stress, family drama. We just don’t normally share… that territory. But Izzy and my wife Cora are both hornier than they let on, so I’m sure they talked amongst themselves when us guys weren’t around.
NFL opening Sunday changed everything.
We hosted. Nine hours of football, drinking, smoking, floating in the pool on our back deck. I played the good host—serving drinks, manning the grill, keeping everyone fed while the games played on the outdoor TV.
Cora wore this red bikini that barely contained her. She’s got H-cup tits that have drawn stares since she was sixteen, and the top she chose that day was doing her no favors. Every time she moved, she threatened to spill out. I noticed Jeff trying not to stare. I also noticed him failing.
Izzy is the opposite. Flat as a board. But she’s got these incredible nipples that make up for everything she lacks in curve.
Around beer number five, plus a couple shots, things got loose.
—
Jeff got out of the hot tub to help me bring food off the grill. As he climbed out, his swim trunks clung to him, revealing an unmistakable bulge. The girls noticed immediately.
“Someone’s happy to see us,” Izzy teased, pointing.
Jeff was drunk enough to play along. He did a few ridiculous hip thrusts, and I watched his dick bounce under the wet fabric. Even soft, that thing looked massive. The outline snaked down his thigh, thick and heavy.
Izzy turned to me with a wicked grin. “Your turn, stud. Put on a show like Jeff.”
My stomach dropped.
“Nah, I’m good,” I said, laughing nervously.
“I know he’s a hard act to follow,” Izzy said, giggling and winking at me. “Hehe.”
Jeff and I exchanged shrugs. Neither of us acknowledged the obvious. We set up the BBQ charcuterie board, and everyone migrated to the island bar on the deck.
—
Cora asked for a cocktail. She was already hammered—slurring words, swaying on her barstool—but I obliged. What kind of husband wouldn’t?
We all moved to the hot tub with fresh drinks. That’s when the whispering started.
Cora and Izzy leaned into each other, mouths barely moving, eyes darting toward us guys. Then Izzy’s hand shot out and yanked Cora’s bikini string.
My wife’s massive tits spilled out completely.
She let out a theatrical gasp, covering her mouth in mock shock. The acting was horrible. We all knew it. But she played along anyway, throwing her top onto the deck and reaching over to untie Izzy’s top too.
They sat there topless in the bubbling water, comparing chests. Izzy may be flat, but her nipples were spectacular—puffy and pink, standing at attention.
Jeff didn’t know where to look. Cora’s huge breasts or his wife’s perfect nips. His loss.
—
Izzy and Jeff started making out. Not subtle, friendly kissing. Full making out, tongues visible, hands roaming.
Cora slid over to me. She tasted like straight vodka when her lips met mine. Aggressive. Hungry. Her hand found its way into my swim trunks, wrapping around my cock and stroking me under the water.
Izzy must have noticed the motion, because she started doing the same to Jeff. But her strokes were different. Longer. Her arm moved in a completely different rhythm.
Izzy pulled back from kissing Jeff and watched Cora’s hand for a moment.
“Why are you barely moving your hand, Cora?”
The question hung in the air.
My wife smiled—that cheeky, tipsy smile I know so well. She raised her hand out of the water, still wrapped around my hard cock, and gestured with her pinky.
“Because it’s hard to jerk off a three-inch dick.”
—
The hot tub went silent.
Izzy’s eyes went wide. “Wow.” She looked at me, then back at Cora. “I know you’ve said he was smaller than all your exes, but that’s… that’s quite little.”
My face burned. My cock, somehow, stayed hard in Cora’s grip.
“He’s a foreplay god, though,” Cora added, squeezing me gently. “Best tongue I’ve ever had.”
Izzy nodded slowly, then turned to Jeff with a smug expression.
“So is Jeff. But he’s also eight inches. Soooooo…”
She trailed off, letting the comparison speak for itself.
Cora giggled. “I wish.”
The words stung. Even through my buzz, they landed like a slap.
Izzy looked at me directly. Then at Jeff. Then at my wife.
“Well,” she said slowly, “I can let you borrow him tomorrow while I’m at work.”
—
Cora dismissed it immediately. “Haha, very funny.”
We carried on. More drinking. More football. Jeff and I losing money on bad bets. Nothing else happened that night.
But the seed had been planted.
—
Later, after everyone left, we sobered up in bed.
Cora rolled toward me. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“That scenario Izzy mentioned.” She paused. “What did you think about it?”
My cock responded before I could. Rock hard in seconds.
Cora noticed. Her hand found me again, wrapping around my three inches.
“You want me to fuck his big cock, don’t you, babe?”
I hesitated. The words caught in my throat.
She started stroking—slow, deliberate pumps.
“You like that he’s way bigger than you, don’t you?”
I came instantly—two minutes of stroking, tops. The biggest load I’ve ever shot—thick ropes coating her hand and my stomach.
I passed out shortly after.
—
I woke up to my phone blowing up.
The group chat had dozens of missed messages. I scrolled through in disbelief.
Live snaps of Jeff and Izzy fucking. Her mouth wrapped around his massive cock. Videos of him pounding her from behind, her flat chest pressed against the mattress.
And Cora’s contributions. Videos of her masturbating. Sucking her own tits. Close-ups of her soaking wet pussy.
The final message was from Izzy: Monday. Noon. Jeff’s off work. Cora’s off work. You two figure out your schedules.
They’d agreed on it while I was asleep.
—
Monday morning.
I left for work, watching Cora apply makeup and slip into black lace lingerie.
“Special occasion?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
She smiled. “First big dick in a long time. I want it to be memorable.”
I drove to work with a hard-on that wouldn’t quit.
—
The messages started at 12:15.
Jeff had sent a video to the group chat. Cora on her knees, his massive cock in her mouth. Her H-cup tits spilled out of the lingerie she’d spent an hour choosing. She could barely fit half of him between her lips.
She’s a natural, Jeff captioned it.
Then more. Photos of her riding him, her huge breasts bouncing with every thrust. Videos of him bending her over our bed—the bed I sleep in—slamming into her from behind.
The sounds she made. Moans I’d never heard before. Screams that rattled the windows.
And his cock. Eight thick inches disappearing inside her, stretching her pussy in ways mine never could. She took all of it. Every inch. Her greedy cunt swallowed him whole.
I watched the videos in the bathroom at work, jerking off in a stall. Came three times before my shift ended.
—
Two days later, I’ve jerked off to those videos at least ten times.
Cora and I haven’t talked about it directly. But she’s been walking differently—sore, satisfied. And she keeps dropping hints about next time.
Izzy’s been texting me at work. Checking in. Making sure I’m handling everything okay.
I told you he was big, she wrote yesterday. Your wife deserves to feel that.
And she’s right. Cora does deserve it. She married a man with a three-inch cock and never complained. The least I can do is let her enjoy something bigger.
Jeff hasn’t said much—just a thumbs-up emoji after the last video.
But I know this isn’t over. The group chat stays active. Cora keeps asking about my work schedule. Izzy keeps mentioning her upcoming business trips.
And my three-inch cock stays hard, thinking about what comes next.
The End.
