by Hank Wilder
“How’s John?” Brad finally asks.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Greg called me, but I haven’t talked to John yet. We’ll see him tomorrow.”
My husband shakes his head from side to side, still in shock. “What a good guy,” he says to himself, almost in a trance. “He must be in so much pain right now.”
My husband has always had a huge crush on John, something that used to bother me but never enough to mention out loud. Now, the thought of caring about something so harmless and petty seems absurd. There’s no way I could be angry about a little harmless flirting while my good friend is enduring such a terrible tragedy.
Strangely, now that the jealousy is no longer a factor, other emotions are given a chance to bubble up in the forefront of my mind. No longer hidden by my instant discomfort, I find myself surging with feelings of potent arousal.
It’s a confusing place to find myself, and at first I’m not exactly sure what to make of these emotions. The longer I allow them to simmer, however, the easier it is to accept what’s happening.
Strangely, the thought of my husband finding John attractive is turning me on in a big way.
“What is it?” Brad questions, noticing the unexpected expression that has started to creep its way across my face.
“It’s nothing,” I assure him, not exactly ready to explain my feelings to Brad. “It’s just… a lot to take in.”
My husband nods with understanding, then does the only thing anyone really can do in these situations; get gets back to work.
“The soup smells amazing,” I offer, watching as Brad diligently returns to his preparations.
“It’s gonna be ready in an hour or so,” my husband replies with a flirtatious wink.
I turn and head back up towards the office, but despite my best efforts, I still can’t quell this bizarre arousal that has taken hold within.
The funeral service goes as well as can be expected for something this tragic. A few close friends and family say some words of comfort over the casket, bringing a handful of laughs and plenty of tears. Obviously, the most touching moment is when John speaks about his late husband, filling the room with both sadness and hope for the future. He seems to be handling things pretty well.
After lining up to say our goodbyes to John’s husband, the group begins to break off into another section of the church where a reception has been planned.
“You go ahead,” I tell Brad, suddenly remembering that I’d left my contribution of some fancy wine in the car.
I head out through the church’s emergency exit, making my way towards the parking lot until someone calls out from behind me.
“Hey!” cries a familiar voice.
I turn around to find John leaned up against the back alley wall, a lit cigarette in his hand.
“You smoke?” is all that I can think to say, turning around and approaching my friend.
John shakes his head. “Nope.”
“How is it?” I question.
My friend chuckles, a good sign. “Terrible,” he informs me, dropping the butt and then crushing it under his shoe.
“I’m really sorry,” I offer my friend.
“Thanks,” he replies.
“How are you doing?” I continue.
“Bad… but okay,” John explains. “We knew this was coming, so it was nice to say our goodbyes. Not a lot of people get to do that.”
“True,” I reply with a nod. “That’s a nice thing to have. You could get his things in order together.”
John smiles at some personal, inside joke, staring off into space. “You can say that again.”
Despite my best efforts, my curiosity gets the best of me. “What is it?” I question.
John laughs. “My husband was a good man. He just… he left me with some funny instructions.”
“Instructions?” I ask, not quite sure what to make of this.
“He just wants me to keep on living, you know?” John explains. “I guess one of his few regrets was not seizing the moment more, trying new things.”
“Like smoking?” I question.
John nods. “Yeah. I always wondered what it was like, and it fucking sucks.”
“I was never much of a fan myself,” I continue. “What else?”
John laughs, but says nothing.
I remain quiet, simply raising my eyebrows at my friend to coax him onward.
“He said I shouldn’t be afraid to have some fun… in the bedroom,” John finally continues.
“That’s oddly sweet,” I reply.
John nods. “Yeah, it’s gonna be weird, but I think it could also help me move on. Who’s gonna want to fuck the guy who’s husband just died, though?”
The second John says this I feel a strange surge of arousal course through me once more, a similar sensation that arrived yesterday when considering the fact that my husband has always had a crush on John. This is a fantasy that I’m not quite comfortable with, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t there.
The longer I let these feelings simmer, the larger they grow, pouring out through my veins and taking hold of my senses. As crazy as it sounds, I suddenly realize just how much it would turn me on to see Brad and John fucking, to watch another man use my husband and his muscular body right in front of me.
I start to envision a variety of erotic scenarios between the two of them, pushing things farther and farther within my own mind. The idea of Brad and John simply flirting is enough to send a chill down my spine, but picturing the two of them passionately kissing kicks my lust into overdrive. I think of what it would be like to watch my husband slowly drop to his knees before John, reaching in and pulling his cock from his pants, then opening wide to take the massive rod between his lips.
“You okay?” John says, breaking through my trance.
“Oh, yeah,” I stammer, struggling to collect myself.
“What is it?” my friend continues.
“Nothing,” I quickly reply.
Clearly, this isn’t good enough for John, who continues to eye me up and down with skeptical curiosity.
“Come on,” my friend counters. “I just told you the sexual details of my dead husband’s last wishes. You owe me a little something in return.”
I let out a long sigh, suddenly flooded with a mounting dread. The moment has arrived quickly, but I’m well aware of just how much weight it could carry moving forward. If I reveal this powerful new fantasy to John, it could have enormous implications between my husband and me. I’m not saying this is something I’d ever try in the real world, but that appears to be the way things are headed and I’m not sure I have the will power to stop it.
Honestly, I’m not even sure I’d want to.
“I was just thinking,” I finally say, my voice trembling slightly. “That my husband has always had a huge crush on you.”
John just stares at me blankly, not exactly sure what I’m telling him this.
“Well, that’s very flattering,” my friend finally says, “but something tells me he’s not available for a rebound fuck.”
“What if he was?” I question.
Suddenly, the implications of what I’m getting at hit John like a truck. He straightens up a bit, clearly reeling. “Wait. Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
I nod.
“And you’re okay with that?” my friend continues.
“I’m… kinda into it,” I admit. “It’s crazy, I know. I’ve never had this fantasy before but… it’s pretty hot to think about my husband and another man. If it’s gonna be someone, it might as well be a friend in need.”
John scoffs. “You’re fucking with me.”
“I’m not,” I reply, utterly stone-faced as I shake my head from side to side.
We stand in silence for a moment, not quite sure how to take our erotic plan to its inevitable next step.
“I’ll go find Brad,” I finally tell my friend. “Meet in the room behind the chapel.”
“We really shouldn’t be back here,” my
husband whispers. “This is a funeral!”
Brad is clearly concerned that we’ll be caught sneaking around in the chapel, but I’ve got other things on my mind. Right now, all that I can think about is the erotic scene that is seconds from unfolding.
Of course, my husband could always say no and the three of us will simply laugh this whole thing off for years to come. Strangely, I don’t think that’s going to happen. I know my husband, and I know that his obsession with John is more than just a fleeting curiosity.
“Where are we going?” Brad continues.
“I told you,” I remind him. “I’ve got a surprise!”
“At a funeral?” my husband hisses. “That’s the worst place for a surprise!”
We finally arrive at the door to a secluded back room, an office for some priestly function that I’m not quite aware of as a non-religious man.
I open the door and wave my husband inside, watching as he gasps in shock.
“I’m so sorry,” Brad blurts when he sees John. “I didn’t know you were mourning back here.”
John laughs, stopping Brad in his tracks. “Wait,” he replies.
My husband turns around and we step inside closing the door behind us.
“You’re right, I am mourning,” explains John, “but my husband gave me permission to mourn in my own way.”
Brad glances over at me, clearly a little confused.
“John needs a good fuck,” I finally say, cutting right to the chase. “I know you’ve always had a crush on him, so I thought it might be a good fit.”
“What?” is all that my husband can think to say, laughing awkwardly. “Is this a really, really weird practical joke?”
“It can be,” I assure him, “but it doesn’t have to.”
Brad stares at me a moment longer until his expression finally cracks, the good-humored smile finally crumbling into an aching arousal.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Brad asks me.
I nod. “I’m here to help a friend in need. As long as I can watch, you have my permission to do anything you want.”
My husband doesn’t exactly seem convinced, and I don’t blame him. This is a lot to take in.
“Fuck him right in front of me,” I offer sternly.
My husband takes a deep breath and then, at long last, accepts his roll as the one in charge. Suddenly, everything changes, his once timid demeanor shifting into a powerful sexual presence.
John and I watch with rapt attention as my husband pulls his shirt up over the top of his head, revealing his perfectly sculpted masculine form. Brad’s pants come of next, and soon enough he’s standing before us in nothing but his underwear.
Meanwhile, I step back and take a seat in a large leather chair, growing more and more aroused by the second.
Brad and I exchange one last glance. I give his the nod.
Suddenly, my handsome husband is springing into action, stepping forward and meeting John with a passionate embrace. The two of them are kissing deeply as my husband tears away the clothing from John’s body, unbuttoning his suit and pulling it away, tossing the fabric to the floor in a swiftly growing pile.
I’d known this moment was coming, but I’m still taken aback by just how powerful the vision of my husband kissing this other man truly is. We’ve been married for a long time, and never once had I considered the possibility of sharing his in this way. We made a commitment to each other, and breaking that commitment in such a visceral and taboo manner is intoxicating.
I unzip my pants and pull forth my aching cock, slowly beating myself off as my eyes remain locked on the erotic scene.
My husband’s attention drifts lower and lower across John’s body, until eventually his fingers are dancing along the bones of his hips, teasing him a bit before he takes things farther.
“Do you want me to touch it?” my husband coos. “Do you want me to get you off?”
“Yes,” John groans, nodding his head.
Finally, my husband has mercy, wrapping his fingers tightly around the man’s swollen dick. Brad gets to work beating John off with slow, sensual pumps, and I match these movements with my own hand.
Quickly overwhelmed with lust, my husband drops down to his knees before John. He gazes up at my friend with a look of aching, cock-drunk lust, then opens wide and takes his girthy rod between his lips. The man of my dreams begins to pump his face slowly up and down across John’s length, savoring the taste of this new dick while he enthusiastically cradles the man’s hanging balls.
After a good while of this, my husband pops the rod from his mouth, licking John’s shaft slowly from the base to the tip. When he reaches the end he gives his head a playful kiss, then opens wide once more, swallowing him whole.
This time, however, my husband refuses to pull back. Deeper and deeper he allows this mammoth cock to plunge within his gullet, taking John all the way down until he finally comes to rest at the absolute hilt. My husband’s face is now pressed up against my friend’s chiseled abs, John reaching down and placing his hands against the back of Brad’s head in an action of erotic dominance.
John holds the man of my dreams like this for a good while, savoring the expertly performed deep throat, until finally my husband is forced to pull back with a sputter and a gasp. Brad explodes off John’s cock in a shower of spit, a long strand of glistening saliva now hanging from his lips.
“Oh fuck,” my husband groans. “I need you inside me. I need you to pound this tight gay ass right in front of my husband.”
Brad stands up and begins to strut over to a nearby desk, stripping away what’s left of his clothing as he goes until, soon enough, he’s completely naked. My beautiful husband bends over and pops his ass out towards John and me, wiggling his rump from side to side as he fully exposes himself.
For a brief moment my husband and me lock eyes, and he offers a playful smile. “Do you like watching another man use my body?” Brad coos.
“Fuck yes,” I gush.
“Good, because we’re just getting started,” Brad continues.
The next thing I know, John has saddled up behind my handsome hubby, aligning his cock with his anal tightness as he prepares for entry.
“Do it!” my husband snarls impatiently, reaching back and giving his butt a mischievous slap. “Fuck me!”
John doesn’t need to be told twice, and the next thing I know he’s slamming forward in one singular, powerful thrust, impaling my husband’s beautiful frame across his enormous length.
My husband lets out a startled yelp, not entirely prepared for the man’s size.
“Oh my fucking god, that new cock is so big!” my husband exclaims, his brutal words sending a shiver of both anger and arousal down my spine.
John is a seasoned lover, starting slow so that my husband has a chance to adjust to his mammoth rod. I can tell a slight discomfort has set in by the way that he’s moving, but after a brief moment of careful pumps, all of that disappears. Soon enough, my husband and John fall into a confident rhythm together, my friend now pounding away at the man of my dreams with graceful confidence.
“Oh my god, oh my god,” Brad begins to groan, the words falling out of his mouth over and over again in a blissed out mantra. He is utterly beside himself with pleasure, not quite sure what to do as the sensations continue to grow within. Soon enough, my husband is screaming the words out at the top of his lungs. “Oh my god! Oh my god!”
By now, my hand is pumping up and down across my cock at an incredible speed, flooding my body with the warm sensation of an impending orgasm. I could blow at any moment, but I somehow manage to hold myself back, realizing that the second I cum is the second all of this crashes down around me. I’m not ready to face the reality of this situation just yet.
My husband and John soon change positions, Brad climbing up onto the desk and leaning back with his legs spread wide. John steps up in front of him, aligning his cock and then sliding it deep into my handsome hubby’s now reamed asshole.
/> This time, no warm-up is required, the two of them immediately falling into sync with one against as they buck hard in a state of complete sexual bliss.
My husband’s legs are now splayed out to either side, bouncing in the air with every slam. I watch as his perfect body begins to tremble and quake, the inevitable climax quickly making it’s presence known. He could cum at any second.
“I love that fat dick!” my husband screams, reaching down to furiously beat himself off. “Pound me right in front of my husband! Make me cum! Make me fucking cum so he can watch!”
John is giving it to my handsome husband with everything he’s got now, slamming away at his in a state of reckless abandon.
Suddenly, Brad throws his head back and lets out a powerful scream, his voice filling this room with the unmistakable sound of someone in the troughs of climax. My husband’s eyes roll back into his head as he trembles and quakes, completely lost in the moment. His legs stick out perfectly straight and hold in the air, remaining like this for the entire duration of his orgasm as jizz erupts hard from the head of his cock.
When Brad finally finishes he collapses back against the desk in exhaustion, but his job isn’t over yet.
The next thing I know, Brad is sliding down in front of John yet again. He’s gazing up at the man with hungry eyes, begging for his load as he reaches up and beats him off.
Before John has a chance to blow, however, my husband turns his attention to me.
“Get over here,” the man of my dreams commands. “I need your load too, and you’ve been a very, very good boy.”
I do as I’m instructed, standing up and walking over to the two of them. I take my position next to John, beating off while my husband takes care of our friend.
It appears that John and I are on similar timelines, because the next thing I know, we are both groaning with pleasure, nearly buckling at the knees as a powerful orgasm surges through our bodies.
Somehow, we both manage to stay upright as cum ejects hard from the head of our cocks, splattering out across my husband’s gorgeous, smiling face below. The cum cascades down as Brad opens wide, catching as much of the spunk as he can and then swallowing greedily. My husband opens up again, hungry for more, and continues to take our loads until there’s nothing left.