by T West
“I have a date tonight. With my boyfriend. I told you that,” she patronizingly explained to him. How this married lady could have a boyfriend and openly tell her husband this was amazing to me. I was hooked.
“Now I need you to help me get ready for my date,” she told him. She had one foot on the bed and the other on the floor. She was naked from the waist down. Her big round firm ass was pointed towards the camera. Her husband kneeled behind her and started licking her pussy. You could clearly see her lips open up as he licked the length of her slit up and down.
“Prepare my pussy so my boyfriend’s huge huge cock slides in perfectly,” she instructed.
Needless to say, the scenes that followed aroused me greatly, and with a bit of help from my large dildo I achieved an amazing orgasm. An orgasm far more amazing than any I had achieved in recent memory with my husband.
Every opportunity I got over the next few days when my husband was out was spent searching for similar videos and erotic stories. Stories where the husband invited another man to join in were ok, as were stories where the wife would have sex with another man with the husband’s consent but without him being present. But the ones that really creamed my knickers (so to speak) were the ones where the husband was forced to watch his wife have sex with another man. There was just something about it. Each time I would find my hand instinctively sliding down into my panties to rub and satisfy my burning clit. A lot of other times my panties would be off completely and I would slide my big dildo in and out of my aching pussy, cumming loudly and achieving an amazing climax.
I particularly liked the videos where the husband (or porn actor) would resemble my husband – kind of middle-aged and average looking. The stud satisfying the woman would be much better looking with a much better body and bigger muscles. He would always be at least a couple of years younger too. It was so fricking hot to watch and fantasize over. I did find myself feeling rather guilty at my new pastime, even though I wasn’t technically cheating. Far from it in fact – I mean, I was just watching, reading and masturbating for crying out loud. There was nothing wrong with that. I had never ever cheated on my husband in all our years of marriage. The thought had crossed my mind, but it was more like a fleeting thought and never something that I had seriously considered or even contemplated doing for real.
However, while I was watching these videos I would find myself fantasizing that it was me getting fucked by a strapping big stud while my husband watched. Not only that, but in my mind’s eye I’d be verbally teasing and tormenting my poor husband as the other man was penetrating me, saying things like, “You could never satisfy me like this, could you?” and, “I bet you wish your cock was as big as his. You can really show a woman who’s boss with a nice big cock.”
Yes, I felt guilty when I would see my husband later that evening, especially when it was a family related activity, but the slight guilt sure as hell didn’t stop these fantasies from coming to me and invading both my subconscious and my dreams.
One night when it was very late and my husband was in bed, I was in the spare room sitting at the computer, enjoying watching one of my favorite videos. I was just wearing a night dress and no underwear. It was a very horny cuckold vid. Just at the part where the wife was sucking on the young stud’s large member, my hand naturally slid down and started playing with my pussy, which was becoming wet as I observed the onscreen happenings.
As my hand wandered so did my imagination, and without realizing it I said, “You like to watch don’t you, you little pervert.”
Just as I had said these words I caught glimpse of a silhouette reflected in the computer screen! My heart nearly jumped out of my chest and I spun the office-style chair round on its wheels. To my horror, standing in the doorway was my husband, Tim. How long he had been standing there I didn’t know, but one thing was for sure – it was quite obvious what I had been doing. Not only was the onscreen happenings still going on (albeit on very low volume), but my nighty was pulled up to my thighs, my legs were open and my wanton snatch was in clear view. A view that my husband was obviously indulging in, because his eyes were lowered and he was clearly staring at my moist trimmed pussy.
I closed my legs abruptly, and still in shock exclaimed, “What the hell are you doing? How long have you been standing there?”
Always one to be quite quick-witted, he said, “What am I doing? I think the question is – what are you doing?”
Embarrassed, I reached behind me and stopped the video. “Look, we rarely have sex these days. I am a woman, and I have needs after all. This is just a way for me to relieve myself. I’m sure you wank regularly – it’s perfectly natural. Isn’t it?”
He looked quite upset, “Yes, it is natural. But it’s the kind of porn that you’re watching and finding titillating that I’m uneasy with. I mean – that’s her husband watching isn’t it?”
With that last question I knew instantly that he had in fact been standing behind me for some time watching. I mean, he knew the whole acted-out porn storyline for God’s sake.
“Well yes, it is,” I told him, and it was at this point that I started to feel a little pissed off. I mean, who was he to judge me? Just because his penis didn’t go near my vagina these days it didn’t give him the right to spy on me and complain about the type of videos I enjoyed watching. I certainly didn’t spy on him in the shower, or wherever he wanked.
I don’t really have a dominant personality, but this emotion of anger was definitely beginning to rise to the surface. I could feel it like a saucepan of boiling water - unforgiving, bubbling and frothing, about to overflow and burn whoever was unlucky enough to be underneath it.
Somehow I managed to suppress this feeling of rage, reminding myself that this was my husband, we had a family together, and technically he had done nothing wrong.
“Look, it’s just a bit of porn,” I said as I stood up, walked over to him and gave him a peck on the lips. “Some men would be thrilled to catch their wife doing this. Let’s just forget about it and pretend it never happened. Maybe we just need a little bit of time away together – we hardly ever spend quality time together any more. How about we go away for the weekend? We could go to the beach… book a hotel?”
He offered me a smile, “Ok, that actually sounds nice. Let’s do that.”
“Good,” I told him. “Now let me navigate away from this silly site and I’ll book us somewhere nice right now.”
That night we ended up making love for the first time in what felt like an eternity. It was just missionary position, not my favorite, but it was pretty nice. As he shot his jizzy load deep inside me I couldn’t help but wish it was someone else’s.
The weekend of our planned little trip away together rolled around. The past couple of weeks after the ‘incident’ things had been a little bit awkward between us, but not too bad. Neither of us had mentioned what happened that night and I was hoping that maybe he’d forgotten all I about it. Although I doubted that, somehow.
The room I had booked for us was a nice big room with a big double bed. It was modern styled with minimal furnishings, just a couple of chairs. The big balcony doors opened out onto a balcony that overlooked the beach and sea. Being summertime, it was all very nice. The perfect spot for us to (hopefully) attempt to rekindle that long lost spark.
On the first evening while my husband was in the shower, I had gotten myself all dolled up. He opened the shower room door, naked except for a white towel around his waist, and when he saw me he stopped dead, mesmerized.
My hair was clean, brushed and styled, my golden curls flowing down to my shoulders. I was wearing a black satin corset, will my full breasts almost bursting out from the top of it. Black satin panties were on my bottom half, with silk black stockings pulled up over my long legs. On my feet I had shiny black heels. I felt pretty sexy, to be honest.
My husband obviously thought so too because a bulge had started to appear at waist-level from underneath the towel.
With lust and
desire in my husband's eyes he reached down and started to undo his towel. I hadn’t seen this much passion in his eyes since we had first started dating. It was obvious what he wanted – he wanted to screw me good and hard.
“Not so fast mister!” I told him, and no sooner had the words passed my lips than there was a knock at the door.
Startled, my husband asked, “Who’s that?”
“It's just the wine dear,” I said, then called out, “Its open!”
The door handle turned and the bellman entered. He was a tall guy, about 6ft2. He was a good few years younger than my husband and me. He was wearing his work uniform of black slacks, a white shirt and black waistcoat.
“The wine you ordered ma’am,” he said, and offered a genuine smile as he wheeled in the tray upon which rested an ice bucket and a bottle of white.
“Oh right… wine. That’s a good idea,” said my husband. Then, attempting to take charge, “Just leave it over there. My wife and I are kind of having a private conversation, so that’ll be all.”
The bellman was about to do as instructed and leave when I said in a good-humored manner, “Hang on a second. This hotel isn’t cheap y’know. I’d like the wine poured please.”
“Certainly ma’am,” said the well-mannered bellman, and he proceeded to pour two full glasses.
“There you go. Will that be all?” the bellman asked.
Without answering, I perched on the dresser cabinet and picked up one of the glasses. As I brought it to my lips I eyed the young man up and down. He had short dark hair and blue eyes – he was really quite handsome. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the top and I could see he had quite a muscular chest, he obviously worked out. Memories of the videos I had been watching recently flashed through my mind, and I felt a burning deep in my stomach. I was going to have a little fun – nothing too heavy. Maybe it was the corset or the hot weather, or the fact I was in a sexy mood already, but I suddenly felt very flirtatious.
My husband was still stood there, in just his towel, and I could tell he felt inadequate standing near this younger, taller, better looking man.
Maintaining eye contact with this young stud, I raised the glass to my lips and took a sip. He looked slightly surprised that I hadn’t answered his question, and he stood there staring at me. I took another sip, but this time as I brought the glass to my lips I deliberately let the white wine spill, splashing past my lips and down onto my full semi-exposed breasts that were heaving and almost bursting out from my tight corset.
“Oooops!” I exclaimed, adding a bit of theatre. “Looks like I’ve had a little accident. Be a sweetie and clean this up for me,” I told the bellman, whose eyed had widened and were transfixed on the tops of my fleshy mounds.
My husband’s jaw had dropped; he couldn’t quite believe what he was witnessing. Without saying anything the bellman reached for the tissues.
“No, silly,” I said, jiggling my tits a little, allowing the alcohol to run down the front of the corset. It felt cold and nice against my skin and I felt my nipples begin to harden. “I didn’t say mop it up – I said clean it up. With your tongue.”
The bellman stopped in his tracks, in disbelief, as if he couldn’t believe his luck. He looked at my husband and they exchanged a look – my husband looked genuinely worried and embarrassed about what I had proposed, while the bellman looked as though he was contemplating whether to do it or make his excuses and leave.
Without giving him a chance to make up his mind, and with my ass still perched on the cabinet, I arched my back, leaned forward, and pulled down the front of my corset, exposing my big full breasts to him. My erect nipples stuck out like bullets, and as both men feasted their eyes on my firm tits, I myself was also almost in disbelief of what I was doing. It was almost as if I was possessed by my fantasies, that they were exposing themselves to the world just as I was exposing my tits.
And that must have been all the enticement the young bellman needed, because he stepped forward, leaned over and started to lick and suck the wine off my breasts, delicately and passionately lapping up as much as he could. I rolled my head back and closed my eyes, hearing an audible gasp from my husband as he watched on.
The young man took extra care when he reached my erect nipples, taking care to suck each one in turn. His lips felt like two soft little harps as he suckled, making them harder and fully stand to attention.
I was so caught up in the moment that I got a little bit of a fright when I heard my husband call out, “What the hell are you doing?! That’s my wife y’know! We’re married… stop that at once!”
It was very unlike my husband to be so forceful with his voice. In fact, I couldn’t recall a time when I’d heard him speak to abruptly.
The bellman stopped, and looked up at me, as if to ask my permission as to whether he should continue or listen to my husband.
“Look,” I glanced down at the young man’s name badge. “Josh is just helping me clean up. There’s nothing wrong with what I am asking of him. Now for God’s sake just shut up. And speak when you’re spoken to.” I felt a dominant power rise up through my body.
My husband looked exasperated, “No, you listen to me. It was your idea to come here and spend a bit of ‘quality time’ together, remember? And yet here you are asking this stranger to suck your tits?! You’ve got to be kidding me.”
The erection that had been visible through my husband’s towel had vanished. I looked him dead in the eyes and remembered his act of infidelity all those years ago.
“Tim. Shut up. Sit in that chair over there. This is going to happen, whether you like it or not,” I told him, now fully enjoying this new found feeling of power.
Josh the bellman and I looked at each other and exchanged a knowing smile. Josh stood up straight, and with a confident tone said to my husband, “I’m just doing what the lady asks. I think you’d better do so too.”
I’m not sure whether it was because my husband felt a threatening undertone in this young man’s voice, or whether it was because he was basically naked except for a towel (I mean, he wasn’t about to run out into the hallway like that), but reluctantly he did as he was instructed. He walked over to one of the comfy armchairs and sat down, facing us.
Still perched atop the counter I spread my legs slightly, fully revealing my satin panties. With Josh standing between by thighs, I began to trace my fingers from my boobs, down the length of my body, to my panties that had now become quite damp. I glanced over to my husband sitting there watching me, and I started to play with my pussy through my knickers, gently rubbing my burning clit and sliding my finger up and down my labia through the smooth material.
Josh the bellman was obviously enjoying this, because a bulge had started to appear in his work trousers – and my, what a bulge it was. It dwarfed the bulge my husband had sported earlier by comparison.
Seizing the moment, I reached forward and touched Josh’s bulge through his trousers. He obviously liked this because it hardened as I did so – I could really feel his throbbing length, as though it was bursting and desperate to get out.
So, I obliged. I hadn’t seen another man’s penis in the flesh since Tim and I had gotten married. This all felt so new to me, so exciting; and more so knowing I was in complete control. I unzipped Josh’s fly and unbuttoned his trouser button. Using both hands I pulled his trousers down to just below his firm ass, revealing his white boxer-briefs. His cock was now rigid underneath the cotton of his underwear; the length of his erect shaft clearly visible.
Not wanted to waste a second more (and with my mouth salivating slightly) I grabbed the elastic of his boxers and tugged them down. His erect cock got momentarily pulled down with them, and then sprung up as it was set free – with such force that it slapped his firm stomach, making a solid-sounding ‘thwack’.
The bulge had not been deceptive – his fucking cock was huge. No kidding. It must’ve been at least 8.5 inches. Nice and thick, with a veined shaft. His foreskin contracted all the way bac
k revealing a nice big round purple bell-end, which was already starting to ooze pre-cum. He was trimmed neatly up above, and his balls were shaved and low-hanging, yet firm, tight and full.
I know this sounds cruel but my husband’s cock was pathetic in comparison – there was absolutely no match. I could tell my husband knew this too, as I viewed the unhappy expression of jealousy on his face.
With Josh standing before me, I leaned forward, opened my mouth and put my lips on his big shiny helmet. He moaned just as I did so, and I reached out and gently squeezed his balls with my hand. Indeed, they were full, almost to the point of bursting, as though he hadn’t cum for three days. Maybe that was why he was eager to indulge me with little remorse, or maybe he secretly had a dark side that he kept quite well hidden. Whatever his reasons, I knew that me and Josh were going to get along just fine.
I opened my mouth as wide as I could, and allowed Josh’s cock to enter. I then clasped my full lips down around his shaft as tight as I could and began to suck him – moving my head up and down the length of his huge member, tasting him.
I then stopped sucking for a moment as an idea hit me. Whist stroking his cock in one hand I said, “I know what – let’s take this over there. I think someone’s secretly enjoying this and wants a closer view.”
He smiled as he instantly got my drift. I walked over to where my husband sat with his frustrated bemused expression on his face, taking Josh with me by firmly gripping his cock and walking him as though it was a dog’s lead. I positioned Josh right next to my husband, so his erect penis was bobbing about right in front of my husband’s face. His trousers and boxers fell to the floor and he stepped out of them and kicked off his shoes. He was now just wearing a pair of black socks and his work shirt & waistcoat (with name badge still in place).
I got on my knees, so close to my husband that my full breasts grazed the tops of his knees, and leaning forward slightly, told my husband sternly, “Untie my corset. Now.”