He Owns My Wife

by Tinto Selvaggio

  “No need to get up yet” he instructs my wife.

  “I’ve gotta tell you boy, your wife is a very willing little cock-sucker!”

  I become aware now that his only recently-sucked and drained cock is starting to stiffen again and is rising menacingly up against his stomach.

  Without taking his eyes from me, Mick stoops a little and forces Lisa forward towards me, her hands resting on the ground close to the contents of the spilled bin.

  It’s all I can do to stand there, my own cock still shrivelled in intimidation and my stomach in knots.

  For a second I catch sight of Lisa’s wedding and engagement rings on her outstretched finger within a few feet of me.

  “Get your head right down and stick out that sweet ass for me Lisa” he orders my wife.

  She tries to protest, calling his name but he has her anchored in place. With his right foot he slides Lisa’s discarded dress out from under her and adjusts the position of it with the sole of his boot so that it’s right between her legs. Then, with that smirk on his face, he lowers himself down and rests his knees on my wife’s dress.

  He turns his attention to Lisa, dragging her legs apart at the inner thighs and slapping one of the cheeks of her upturned ass.

  Lisa has given up any pretence of trying to object at being used again in front of me and seems to be doing what she can to get her bare knees into a comfortable position on the ground. Her chin rests on her forearms and now clenched fists.

  With a reptilian smile in my direction Mick moves his groin towards Lisa’s upturned ass.

  “Oh My God, he’s going to put that enormous thing inside her!” I say to myself.

  His hands disappear in front of himself and after moment of adjustment down there Lisa loudly gasps as Mick slides forward, his eyes narrowed to little slits as he eases himself inside my wife.

  “Oh yes, “he tells me, his eyes now wide open and starring triumphantly at me, “Nice, tight little pussy.”

  Slowly Mick begins grinding his hips, goring at Lisa’s insides with his stiffness.

  “It’s so fucking warm here inside your lovely wife’s pussy”. He calls over.

  Lisa’s head is down, her hair covering her face.

  “Now boy, Look ...and learn.“ He tells me as metronome-like he increases his speed, burying himself into, and then back and seemingly almost fully out of my wife.

  She struggles and raises herself onto her elbows, her weighty tits swaying under her.

  In contrast to the speed of his thrusts now his words are slow.

  “Look at your wife,” he drawls, “with a man-size cock up her” Then he raises his voice and yells over at me: “How much do you love her now boy?”

  With a curl of his top lip he plunges himself so deeply up inside her that she lets out a wail. She’s ramming her hips back at him to meet each of his thrusts, her tits lurching wildly together towards and then away from me.

  Mick’s eyes are screwed shut again and he’s pumping her and pumping her, his balls slapping loudly against her. He immerses himself inside her like it’s the last fuck he’ll ever have.

  Lisa seems oblivious to her audience. “Hurt me, hurt me, hurt me Mick!” she chants, almost reaching the volume of a scream as his huge erection ploughs relentlessly in and out of her pussy. His heavy hands alternate between mauling her violently swinging tits and swiping at her buttocks.

  My wife has her eyes firmly shut locking me out of her experience of becoming one with this other man. She cries out his name again and with a howl like I’ve never heard from her -she comes, her body stiffening rigid then shuddering, her face pressed down on its side in the gravel and dirt. On her hands and knees in an alley way with Mick, she has her first ever orgasm from penetrative sex.

  Mick doesn’t even seem to notice Lisa’s orgasm – never mind its significance to her and me.

  His balls continue to smack relentlessly against her inner thighs and he grips the fleshy cheeks of her upturned ass so tightly now that his knuckles are white.

  Grunting like a bear, and with one hand raised, Mick relentlessly beats each alternate cheek of her quickly reddening ass for what seems an eternity.

  Then, unexpectedly, he collapses across and on top of her compliant body like a rapidly deflating balloon.

  For a moment or two they both moan softly as he slowly grinds himself around inside her. It takes a second or two for me to realise what’s happened. This man has just come, draining himself deep inside my unprotected wife.

  What have we done?

  “She might need a bit of training at sucking cock, but she’s a great fuck.” He gasps over at me from his knees while still up her.

  “She’s wasted on you” he tells me.

  Then leaning with his elbows on her back he pulls himself out of her pussy with an audible plopping noise, leaving her motionless on the ground.

  He tugs his pants back up his hairy legs and begins to fasten his belt.

  “You might want to help your wife get dressed “he says fastening his belt without looking at me.

  I feel myself burn with embarrassment as I put my own still unsatisfied and shrivelled penis back in my pants and go across to them.

  Lisa, standing now, naked and unsteady on her feet, her hair bedraggled and tousled, looks suddenly aware of where she is.

  Much of the come all over her face and chest has dried and hardened into silver streaks. She’s trying to cover her chest with a forearm. Her other arm is down between her legs obscuring the little trimmed triangle. There are patches of dirt from the ground on her knees and elbows and a steady trickle of Mick’s come has started to dribble down the inside of one of her thighs.

  Trembling while Mick adjusts his shirt I reach down and collect Lisa’s lacy black bra, dress and panties from the ground and give them all a shake.

  Mick’s beery breath in is my face. “I’ll take those” he says sharply snatching the little panties from my hand. I watch in a daze as he presses them to his face and inhales deeply.

  “Mmm....’Fragrance of Lisa’. Nice souvenir of a birthday fuck.” He smirks before pushing them deep into his trouser pocket.

  My wife has her dress back on now and is trying to move her zipper up. She hasn’t yet looked at or spoken to me.

  Mick tells me I’d better take her home, that she’s “In a bit of a state”. He says he’ll get back to the party hopefully before they’re missed. That he’ll explain “Lisa had to go home because she wasn’t feeling too good... or something”.

  As I’m remembering the couple who came out and saw them together earlier, Mick tells me I need to take good care of Lisa because “She’s a bit special.” Then he smiles knowingly at me and says: “I’m not surprised she came to me though, seeing that little piece of gristle between your legs!”

  He throws back his head with a deep laugh, picks up his beer and pulls open the Fire Exit doors to go back inside.

  As I help my wife back down the alley with my arm around her waist I’m desperately struggling for what to say to her. I think I should apologise for spying on her.

  I need her to tell me that everything is still OK. That she still loves me. That nothing has changed. I want to hear she didn’t really enjoy it as much as it looked like she might have.

  My stomach is clenching inside.

  Surely this changes everything between us? What if Mick wants her again – and she wants him?

  Eventually I just ask her if she’s OK. She nods. “He didn’t really hurt you did he?” I ask and she says she’s a “bit sore”. I tell her I love her and squeeze her waist to me. The smell of come and aftershave on her obscures the fragrance of her perfume.

  Back inside the car I ask her again if she’s sure she’s OK. Her eyes look a little distant, as if she’s spaced out.

  “The reality was a bit rougher than the fantasy” she says, her voice little more than a whisper. Then trying to smile she adds: “And I am quite sore”.

  She moves awkwardly on the car
seat and perversely I feel more secure about her and me at that moment because she seems so vulnerable.

  I put my arms around her, trying to ignore how strongly she smells and again tell her I love her.

  The vivid memory of how beautiful she looked with Mick up to his huge balls inside her, how “right” that seemed, fills my head. And now, finally showing up, my own treacherous cock feels as hard as iron between my legs.

  “I hope you won’t be too sore when we get home” I whisper into her ear as I start the car, but she’s looking out of the window into the dark sky and I’m not sure she hears me...

  A Final Thank You

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