by Hank Wilder
As crazy as it sounds, the more I think about my husband cheating on me with the gardener, the more it actually starts to turn me on. It’s an insane fantasy, one that I’ve never before experienced, but it’s certainly potent.
As I draw closer and closer to home, the scales begin to tip.
Initially, I’d been desperately begging the hands of fate to chalk this up to some horrible misunderstanding. Of course my husband isn’t cheating on me.
Now… I’m aching for some sort of illicit discovery.
My cock hard and aching, I imagine what it would be like to arrive home and find the two of them locked together in the troughs of homoerotic passion. My husband’s toned, nude body is etched across my mind as I succumb to the visions of his writhing around in pleasure, taking another man’s huge dick up his ass.
“It’s just a fantasy,” I tell myself out loud, as if actually vocalizing these words will make them more convincing. “You don’t really want that.”
Or maybe I do.
I pull up to the house, but park out front instead of heading down the driveway. When I get out of my car I’m careful not to slam the door, then start making my back up the front walk.
At this point, nothing seems too out of the ordinary. I haven’t been gone for that long, and Scott should be just about finishing up with his work around the garden.
He’s not out front, so I make my way into the house, opting to remain silent as I push through the door and stroll inside. I scan the rooms, curious where Tom might’ve run off too.
Not only is there no cheating going on in here, there’s nothing happening at all.
I’ve almost completely relaxed when I finally hear it, a soft squeal coming from the back yard. I freeze, stopped dead in my tracks as I listen intently. Moments later, I hear yet another faint squeal, then some laughter. My husband’s voice is unmistakable.
Slowly, I creep out the back door, which leads to a deck overlooking the back yard. From here I can see the entirety of our lush garden below, and when my eyes finally come to rest of its two occupants I gasp in shock.
Down below are Tom and Scott, the two of them kissing passionately as they slowly remove articles of clothing. I’ve gotten here just in time because the pair is down to their underwear, their hands sensually exploring one another’s bodies.
Instantly, the rage within me flares up yet again, but I’m quick to push it back down. Instead, I let those other feelings elevate, allowing the aching lust to make it’s way out across my body. Slowly, I reach down and unzip my pants, pulling forth my large, aching cock. I begin to stroke myself, watching with rapt attention as the erotic scene unfolds.
“That was so scary this morning,” Tom says to the gardener. “I was worried.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Scott offers in return. “You’ve still got me.”
“I certainly do,” Tom retorts, finally plunging his hand down below the waistband of Scott’s shorts and grabbing ahold of his swollen cock.
My husband pulls forth the gardener’s enormous rod, stroking the man off as he pumps his hips in time with his movements. Scott is clearly enjoying himself, reeling from the pleasure as my husband continues to diligently work his member.
Eventually, Tom drops down to his knees before Scott, beating him off just a moment longer before opening wide and taking his shaft between his lips. My beautiful husband begins to pump his head up and down across this other man’s rod, cradling his balls as he goes.
“Oh fuck, that feels so fucking good,” Scott groans as he closes his eyes tight, enjoying the sensation.
It’s hard to explain how I’m feeling right now, but instead of trying to pick it apart, I allow these powerful emotions to wash over me. I’m no longer fighting back against the tidal waves of arousal, just letting myself drift along on this strange, erotic journey.
Tom sucks the gardener off a bit longer and then pops his cock out of his mouth, slowly dragging his tongue from the balls to the tip. My husband kisses the head of Scott’s shaft and then opens wide once more, taking his dick between his lips again.
This time, however, my husband refuses to pull back. Instead of bobbing his head up and down across Scott’s length, Tom just pushes the man’s rod farther and farther into his throat, somehow relaxing his gas reflex enough to take the gardener’s enormous member all the way to the hilt.
The next thing I know, my husband’s face is pressed up hard against Scott’s chiseled abs, his new lover’s cock fully consumed in a perfectly performed deep throat. My husband stays in this position for as long as he possibly can, Scott placing his hands against the back of his head and holding him in place.
Eventually, Tom pulls back in a sputtering, gasping mess, desperate for air as a long strand of glistening saliva hangs from his lips.
Something unexpectedly overtakes me, a strange compulsion that compels me to interject.
I loudly clear my throat.
Instantly, Tom and Scott pull away from one another, looking up in my direction as they struggle to cover up their nude bodies. I can’t help but start laughing at how ridiculous this is, as if anything they did now could possibly change what I’ve witnessed.
“Having fun?” I call down, toying with them a bit.
“Baby, I’m so sorry,” my husband blurts.
She starts to make his way over to the deck but I hold my hand up to stop him. “It’s okay,” I state confidently.
“But…” my husband stammers.
“It’s okay,” I repeat, then turn my attention to Scott. “Did you get the backyard taken care of?”
This question is so out of left field that the gardener is not exactly sure how to answer, taken completely off guard as he stares at me blankly.
“Did you get the back yard taken care of?” I repeat.
“Oh, yeah,” Scott says, snapping out of it and nodding profusely.
“Good,” I reply. “Then you can get back to fucking my husband.”
The two of them just stare at me in silence, struggling to tell if I’m actually being serious of if I’m just having a mental breakdown.
To be honest, it’s probably both.
“As long as you took care of the yard, you deserve a little fun,” I continue. “My only issue is that you should’ve probably asked first.”
I watch as my husband starts to say something, then stops himself, holding back.
I nod at Scott. “Because of this, you’re gonna work the next year for free,” I announce, “but if you guys want to fuck each other in the meantime, I’ve got no problem with it.”
“Really?” is all that Tom can think to say.
“Really,” I repeat back to him. “As long as the yard gets taken care of.”
Tom and Scott exchange glances.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” my husband finally announces. “Fuck me.”
Tom strolls over to a nearby brick wall, standing about waist height, and braces himself against it. My husband strips off his underwear and then pops his ass out towards Scott, wiggling it playfully from side to side as he waits for his approach.
“Come on,” Tom blurts, hungry for more. “Get over here and fuck me right in front of my husband.”
Finally Scott springs into action, stepping into position behind my husband and aligning his enormous cock with his tight butthole. Moments later, the muscular man is thrusting forward, pushing into Tom with one long, deep swoop.
“Oh fuck,” my husband yelps, his fingers gripping tight onto the wall before him. I can tell the size of Scott’s rod is quite formidable, and although I’m now certain they’ve had plenty of encounters like this before, the gardener’s tool still takes a moment to get used to.
My husband and Scott start slowly at first, pumping against one another in series of graceful movements. I immediately begin to match their rhythm with the strokes of my hand across my own cock, keeping time with my husband and his brand new lover.
I can see the inevitable transformation as
Tom becomes accustomed to the enormous size of Scott’s dick. While his body had once been wracked with discomfort, those feelings of tension begin to visibly slip away, replaced instead by a potent, aching warmth.
“Fuck me, fuck me!” my husband begins to repeat, looking back over his should at Scott and then past him as he locks eyes with me. “I love that fucking cock up my ass!”
My husband’s erotic diatribe grows louder and louder with every passing second, evolving from a mumbled mantra to a full on scream that echoes out across the yard. I can tell that Tom and Scott are enjoying the fact they no longer need to keep it down.
Meanwhile, I’m furiously beating myself off, pushing up towards the edge of a powerful orgasm before pulling myself back at the very last second. The thought of blowing my load right now sounds absolutely amazing, but I also know the second I cum is the second all of this comes crashing down around me. There are real world consequences to these erotic actions, and I’m not quiet sure how I’ll handle them once I’ve reached the end of the road.
It appears that Tom and Scott don’t have these restrictions, however. Slamming into each other with everything they’ve got, my husband reaches his hand down between his legs and begins to frantically get himself off, beating his cock with reckless abandon.
Seconds later, Tom throws his head back and lets out a blood-curdling scream, a powerful orgasm rolling through his slender frame like thunder. Every muscle of his body appears to expand and contract in an epic rhythm, until finally he collapses to the ground, utterly spent with his cum splattered everywhere.
Scott stands above my husband, beating himself off as he gazed up at him with eyes of cock drunk lust.
“Give me your fucking load,” my husband demands. “Cum all over my fucking face while my husband watches. I need your seed!”
It only takes three pumps of his fist before the gardener is erupting with his milky payload of jizz, the spunk splattering out across Tom’s face in beautiful, pearly patterns. Tom opens wide and collects as much of the cum as he can between his lips, swallowing hard and then going back for more. By the end of it, his smile is completely painted by Scott’s hot white load.
At the same time, I finally allow myself to push over the orgasmic edge, letting the powerful carnal sensations take hold. I nearly buckle at the knees as the climax hits me, cum blasting out from the head of my shaft and splattering across the deck below.
When I finally finish, I take a moment to collect myself, then walk down into the garden where Scott and Tom are waiting.
I wasn’t sure how I’d feel post-orgasm, but I’m doing surprisingly well, possibly been better than before. I feel relaxed, somehow perfectly fine with this arrangement that we’ve made for ourselves.
“So you’re gonna work for free this year?” I question. “Front yard and back yard?”
Scott nods. “Absolutely.”
I grin makes its way across my face. “Then I think the two of you are gonna have a really good time.”
“We’re all gonna have a good time,” my husband announces proudly, strutting forward and wrapping his arms around me in a loving embrace.
PATRIOTIC
10
We all have that friend who likes to be the center of attention, the one guy or girl that’s hosting every party and claiming every three-day weekend as their own for various barbeques or get-togethers.
It’s actually quite nice to have someone like this around, because it takes a lot of the planning and plotting out of your life. So long as they’re around, your social circle will remain fairly large, often replenished every time another big blowout is thrown.
This weekend is just about as big as it gets for our friend, Nick, and although I’m looking forward to seeing all the familiar faces that I’ve come to know and love, the prospect of a whole weekend out of town is a little daunting.
Nick usually goes all out, but on the 4th of July weekend he gets especially excited. The guy has a lake house up in Arrowhead, just a short trip out of the city, and he usually invites plenty more people than there’s room for.
Fortunately, the other cabins around the lake are usually up for a vacation rental, just so long as you have the sense to book one months and months ahead of time.
This year, my husband Peter and I are living like royalty, however, crashing in the guest room of Nick’s place. It’s a double-edged sword, of course; we won’t have to travel that far to pass out, but there’s bound to be music blaring until the early hours of the morning. I’m ready for a fun trip, but also an exhausting one.
“You remembered your swimsuit, right?” I question, glancing over at my beautiful husband in the passenger seat as we hurtle up the mountain in my black sedan.
Peter smiles mischievously. “Of course, how could I forget?”
I’m struggling to decode his bizarre expression, my gaze bouncing back and forth between Peter’s smiling face and the road before me. Clearly, something is up, but I’m not exactly sure what.
“I don’t get it,” is all that I can think to say.
“Get it?” Peter retorts. “There’s nothing to get.”
“You’re smiling weird,” I inform him. “We’ve been married for six years and I damn well know when you’re up to something.”
Peter laughs, clearly accepting the fact that he’s been caught. “I got myself a new little number to wear, actually,” my husband informs me. “It’s very patriotic.”
“Oh, cool,” I reply, still not quite sure why he was acting so strange.”
“But it’s also very skimpy,” Peter continues.
I shrug, playing it cool. “Okay,” is all that I say.
I’m forcing myself to act natural, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to the sudden surge of jealousy that has flooded through my system. Peter is utterly gorgeous, so I’m used to catching the glance of some other gay man as it lingers a little too long on his perfectly toned body. The difference here is that Peter isn’t usually egging it on.
“What’s gotten into you?” I question, making sure I sound casual and good-natured.
Peter laughs. “I don’t know… I just thought it might make this weekend a little more fun.”
“To put on a show for the guys?” I continue.
My husband raises his eyebrows at me. “You think that’s what I’m doing?”
I shrug. “What else would it be?”
Peter laughs and then puts his arms around me, kissing me on the cheek as I keep my eyes locked on the road. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m not trying to make you feel bad, I just thought it would be fun.”
There are plenty of feelings coursing through my body right now, but bad isn’t one of them. If anything, I’m just a little confused by the cocktail of emotions that are currently swimming around. I’m a little jealousy, of course, but even more than that, I find myself strangely aroused by the prospect of my husband showing off that perfectly toned body of hers. It sounds crazy, I know, but something about the idea of every other man there wanting to fuck my handsome hubby actually gets me going.
“I don’t feel bad,” I finally admit. “I kinda like it.”
“Like what?” Peter questions, not quite sure what I’m getting at.
“Like the idea of you wearing something sexy. Maybe flirting a bit,” I continue.
“Really?” my husband questions, his eyes going wide.
I realize now that he was riding the wave of adventure, pushing farther and farther into this idea of his because he assumed I’d eventually push back. Now, Peter’s beginning to realize that this is an idea I might actually get behind.
“Really,” I reply with a confident nod.
Peter considers this for a moment as a smile creeps its way across his face. “Okay then,” he finally says.
We arrive at Nick’s cabin by noon, and already the place is buzzing with excitement. There are partiers everywhere, some familiar faces and others that we’ve never seen before. Regardless, everyone seems to be having a hell of a ti
me as they drink and dance through the yard. Down a small hill is the lake, where friends are diving into the cool water and splashing one another joyfully.
Even though the big firework displays haven’t started just yet, a handful of revelers have taken it upon themselves to begin blasting off crackers that echo loudly through the forest.
From his position in front of the barbeque, Nick sees us pull into the driveway. He waves down as we climb out of the car.
“Look who it is!” Nick calls over, a huge grin plastered across his face. “My new roommates!”
“Thanks for having us!” I yell back.
“Get up here and give me a hug!” Nick replies.
My husband and I grab our bags and carry them up the steps of the deck, where Nick is waiting for us with open arms.
“Andy,” he says, hugging me and then turning to my husband. “Peter. So glad you guys could make it.”
“Looks like the party’s already started,” I offer, still struggling to take in my hectic surroundings.
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” our friend replies. “I know you two aren’t all that wild, so I gave you the room upstairs where it should be a little bit quieter.”
“We’re wild!” my husband suddenly blurts in protest.
Nick takes a moment, trying to decipher my husband’s expression and then suddenly bursting out laughing. “You’re joking, right?”
“Of course I’m not joking!” Peter continues, legitimately taking offense.
‘Nick shakes his head, as if the very premise of this conversation is utterly laughable. “Don’t get me wrong, at one time you both knew how to party, but that was long before you shacked up and got married. Now, it’s bedtime at nine. I know how you guys roll.”
“We stay out way past nine!” Peter retorts.
Nick just stares at him, his expression saying more than words ever could.
“On weekends,” my husband finally adds.
“That’s what I thought,” Nick continues.
Peter is now clearly upset, the competitive streak that runs deep within his blood now kicking into overdrive. “You’ll see,” my husband suddenly blurts, then takes both of our bags and storms off into the cabin.