Brad and I both stood behind the chair. Alicia was getting carried away with Jackson’s blow job, working his balls with one hand while stroking with the other.
Even Jackson couldn’t last too long with that kind of action. Alicia was playing with fire.
“No!” Jackson said, lifting Alicia up and tossing her on the bed. I didn’t expect Alicia to like being tossed around like that, but she just squealed.
Jackson knelt over Alicia and spread her legs wide, leaning down to lick her pussy.
“Oh stop it, Jackson!” Alicia said. “I’m wet enough already. Brad can lick my pussy later. I want that dick!”
All of a sudden, the word popped out of me: “No!”
Alicia and Jackson paused, as if caught by their parents. They must have thought I was having a last-second crisis. But I was not.
“Brad, come here,” I said, walking over to the bed.
Brad got up and walked dutifully toward us.
“Brad, I want you to put Jackson’s cock inside her.”
“Corrie,” Alicia blurted out, “he’s never done anything like that before.”
I ignored her.
“Brad?” I gave him a stern look.
Alicia cocked her head, her expression curious, as if she wondered how far Brad could be pushed.
Probably a lot further than this, I thought as Brad dutifully grabbed Jackson’s cock and put the tip of the head inside her.
I knew Jackson had let a couple of his male friends suck him off in school, so he was not intimidated by this kind of play.
“Thanks, Brad, I’ll do the rest,” said Jackson, nudging Brad aside.
Jackson pushed his cock inside Alicia. She was so turned on that he managed to push most of it in on the first stroke.
“Oh!” Alicia said, shocked into focus.
I sat down in the chair, propping my legs up on each side. I summoned Brad, who sat down between my legs, as if we were an old married couple. It honestly felt good to have him there.
Jackson was grinding with Alicia, working his dick around in circular motions. He was just toying with her at this point, getting her revved up.
Alicia, meanwhile, had her muscular legs wrapped firmly around him, pulling him deeper. It was amazing to see another woman taken by Jackson. I was fascinated by the similarities … and the differences.
Alicia didn’t put up as much resistance to Jackson’s thrusts as I sometimes did. He was sliding most of his cock in and out of her rather easily. Her moans were happy, and she wasn’t exactly feeling pain or being pushed to the limits. Not yet anyway.
In the bedside mirror, I could see Brad’s hand moving. He was back to stroking himself, his face full of intensity and torment. I couldn’t imagine what he was going through, watching the love of his life getting something so primal from a man who never took the groceries from her car or listened to her whine about her stepmother, much less put a ring on her finger. What she needed from my husband mocked his marriage with every thrust.
As Jackson picked up the pace, my interest level rose. How hard would he be able to pound her?
“Oh god, Jackson. Oh god!”
Pretty damn hard, evidently. Jackson had to be careful pounding me in missionary. I’ve never been able to take his whole dick in that position. Evidently Alicia didn’t have that problem, that little bitch.
“Oh Jackson, you’re hitting my deep spot!” Alicia cried out. I knew what she meant there. Now and then Jackson’s penis would give me what I guess are called uterine orgasms.
He was really pounding her now, withdrawing halfway and then bucking in, pulling her off the bed. Then Alicia came, and it was like a seizure ripped through her body. She screamed and flailed on the mattress, her thighs shaking.
“Cummming!” she managed to blurt out in between spasms. It was only then I realized something I wished I’d noticed earlier: Jackson wasn’t using condoms. That sucked. During one of our fights, he had insisted he always used condoms with Alicia.
Anyhow, I was too far gone to care, fingers circling my clit, legs splayed wide. Between my legs, I could see Brad’s right arm jerking. I loved watching Jackson exert so much control over Alicia. Maybe Brad did too.
Alicia pulled Jackson all the way in, her legs urging him deeper even as her spasms subsided. I expected Jackson to pull out, perhaps switch positions. I usually needed a breather after a deep cervical orgasm like that, to let the warmth spread throughout my body. But Jackson kept thrusting, albeit at a less intense pace.
He leaned into her, and for an insecure minute I thought he would try to kiss her. But then Jackson put his head up: “Brad … towel … quick!” he called out.
Brad jumped up, his little dick poking in front of him as he raced into the master bath and came back with a beach towel. Jackson raised Alicia off the bed and Brad dutifully placed the towel under his wife, as if this was standard duty for husbands. Brad’s submission to Jackson’s commands made me tingle—fuck it, made me tingle times ten—and I knew my own orgasm was on its way.
Jackson and I had messy sex more often than not, but a towel seemed a bit extravagant. I wouldn’t put it past Alicia to be a control freak about her sheets, I thought snarkily.
Brad sat back down between my legs and started working his cock again, as if he knew what was about to happen.
Jackson was fucking Alicia at a pretty decent pace again, but he wasn’t trying to pound her into the bed. He seemed to be concentrating hard on his exact movement. Then, it happened.
“You’re gonna squirt, Alicia. You’re gonna squirt!”
Out of nowhere, Alicia seemed to expel Jackson’s cock as he quickly pulled it out, jamming a couple fingers inside her and massaging her clit.
“Oh fuck!!” Alicia said before she unleashed so much fluid on Jackson it seemed like her pussy had a water gun in it. Surge after surge poured out of her, soaking the towel and Jackson’s crotch as well.
Now I knew what that towel was for. In front of me I could see Brad’s arms moving in a blur. He was jacking off his dick like a madman. Then he spasmed over the sound of Alicia’s ecstatic coos.
I’d heard about girls squirting on big dicks before. I found myself resenting Alicia a little bit, though I wasn’t envious of the mess. That must feel so damn good, I thought to myself. A few times I had leaked on Jackson’s cock when I came—enough to make me think there might be a faucet in there somewhere. But I had never found a way to open it.
Once, while comparing notes about rare guys who know how to fuck, my friend Andrea told me about a couple of guys who knew how to make her squirt. She told me, “Corrie, it was like going to fucking heaven.”
Heaven sounded pretty damn good, but Jackson had taken me close enough many times. So what made squirting different? I had pressed Andrea for more. “Gosh,” she said, her face flushed. “Billy was fucking me pretty good; I had already cum hard a couple of times. His big dick was filling me so good.” She paused. “Then I got the sense of being a bit bloated and uncomfortable, as if I need to purge something. I begged Billy to keep going, just like that, and Corrie, it was like a dam breaking. I pushed Billy’s dick right out of my pussy along with all this juice!” Her smile was ecstatic. “All the stupid, stupid shit, all the stress in my life … it just flooded out of me. I stained my sister’s bedspread and I knew she’d be pissed, but damn, Corrie, just imagine if you were holding something inside, and you became aware it was actually a really big something, and the fucking was pulling it out, and then every second of letting loose was like this huge release. Not just fluid, not just stress, but the sweetest pleasure.” With a huge sigh, she added, “Squirting is so fucking good.”
“Even if you ruin your sister’s bedspread?” I asked, still grossed out by the idea of so much wetness. It sounded embarrassing.
“Oh, god yes, she was pissed!” Andrea giggled, clearly not sorry.
For months after that, I chased the squirting orgasm with Jackson. But I was finally forced to give up. I was over-thin
king it. A couple times I thought I was aware of something deep that wanted to blow up. But it was not to be … and the sex was plenty good enough.
I jolted from Andrea back to reality as Alicia pushed Jackson back on the bed, attempting to mount him.
No!
“What do you think you’re doing, bitch?” I told her, moving her aside. “It’s my turn!”
Alicia couldn’t really protest, could she? I started riding Jackson for all I was worth. Even though I couldn’t take him as well as Alicia in this position, controlling the thrusts and bouncing on him, we could fuck with intensity. I loved it because all I had to do was fuck him as hard as I possibly could, taking care not to lift beyond the tip of this cock.
I felt so damn full this way. No need to worry about rubbing my clit. All we had to do was keep the rhythm going until I lost my shit. I was fucking Jackson really hard now, looking into his eyes. I loved his fierceness in that moment as he focused solely on working my body and pleasing me.
In their bedroom mirror, I could see Alicia standing behind us, next to Brad.
Alicia was whispering in Brad’s ear while feverishly stroking him. I went back to fucking Jackson—I was so close now. My pussy made happy loud sucking noises as I raised up high and slammed myself down.
“I’m gonna fucking cum!” I told Jackson. I looked around at Brad and smiled … I have no idea why. He must have liked the view, or my smile, or something Alicia was saying in a teasing voice in his ear, because Brad came again, and I felt it wash over me. Not a squirt, but definitely what Jackson and I called a ten-bagger. Yes, that’s even bigger than a mega-cum.
Ten-bagger was a term we learned while studying investing from Peter Lynch. That’s a stock that exceeds its value by ten times. For Jackson and me, a ten-bagger took on a different meaning in the bedroom. It was the highest level of pleasure I could reach. A ten-bagger meant a full-body cum, guaranteed legs shaking and muscle spasms. And if I wasn’t careful, I could strain my neck as my shoulders shook. Jackson tried to remember to hold me in place.
Well, I guess Brad liked the view of the ten-bagger, for he came hard. Having an audience must have upped the ante for me also. In my life so far, I’d only had a handful of those ten-baggers.
“You did it!” Jackson said supportively. He loved it when he felt my legs shake uncontrollably around his dick, probably because he knew I wouldn’t make him do any work around the house for days after he fucked me like that.
I feel bad for any woman who hasn’t experienced that lingering loose-body bliss.
I fondled my boobs for a moment—my nipples were always a bit tender after a cum like that. I could see a satisfyingly jealous look on Alicia’s face. Her boobs were definitely smaller than mine, something I hadn’t realized until we got naked. Then I collapsed on Jackson’s chest, asserting my territory like a lioness on Animal Planet.
Jackson’s penis was still hard inside me. Uncomfortably hard, to be honest. I slowly lifted myself off of it, laughing at the loud, gross-sounding plop as it exhaled the air from inside me. Those were supposed to be our private noises.
“Oh Jackson, that big dick needs to cum!” I said.
I kneeled on one side of Jackson, working his cock with both hands. His dick had such a nasty, sticky feeling. “Jackson, you are absolutely coated with pussy cum!” I said as I stroked. God that was fucking hot.
Before I could say anything, Alicia kneeled across from me. “There’s enough for two here!” she insisted, pushing my left hand aside as she grabbed the base of Jackson’s cock.
I’m not sure what came over me—maybe it was the excellence of my orgasm—but I was feeling generous. I let Alicia help out.
If you haven’t jacked off a cock with another girl before, it actually takes practice to coordinate the stroking. But we started slow and got into it quickly.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brad leaving the room. He shut the door a bit harder than he needed to.
Without stopping my stroke, I looked at Alicia quizzically.
“It’s okay,” she said. “He gets like that sometimes.”
“Like what?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“I guess a bit jealous, or intimidated.” The thought made my pussy clench a little bit.
“Thank you, Jackson,” I said to him. “Thank you for fucking us so well.”
Alicia joined in as we stroked. “Oh god, yes,” she said. “You are a blessing.”
“God, Jackson, you are such a fucking stud!” I said as Alicia and I worked to pick up the pace without losing our grips. “It takes both of us to handle your beautiful dick!”
“Oh fuck, yes!” Alicia said. We were moving as a blur now, with Jackson moaning underneath. “God, I love the way you make me squirt. My tiny-dicked husband has never made me squirt!”
I started laughing and—shocker—Jackson starting bucking and spasming, almost bumping me off the bed. I hadn’t seen him cum so quickly in a long time, and I wasn’t ready. The spurts shot up. One hit my face, one my chest. I pushed his cock toward Alicia, and the last few spurts found her belly. He soaked her but she didn’t care.
“Oh Jackson I love watching you cum!” Alicia said. “You cum so much more than my husband!” Her fawning was starting to irritate me.
For some reason, I flashed to Daniel. I could capture all his cum in my hand. The first time I tried to do that with Jackson, I got it all over my red dress. Jackson’s taboo biological superiority turned me on so much that I sucked him until he was hard again, ripped off that nasty red dress, and made him fuck me without a condom, yelling for him to “cum in me with your huge baby-maker!” God, it turns me on to type this. And yeah, I was pregnant with Chelsea soon after. So at least in his case, there was something to it.
Daniel had a lot more chances to make me pregnant before that. Whether Jackson reaching places Daniel couldn’t hope to reach and soaking me with cum that I could literally feel on my back walls had anything to do with it, I’ll leave that to the doctors. But it sure makes me wet to think that Jackson could do what another man couldn’t.
Anyhow, Jackson got up to hit the shower and clean himself up. It’s a shame, I thought as I found myself turned on again. Before I could say yes, no, or anything, Alicia was astride me, kissing and rubbing my breasts.
Chapter 9
Now, normally I’m not that into girls, but some girls can eat pussy like you wouldn’t believe. The last girl between my legs was Andrea, years before she took her long blonde curls and relationship dramas to San Francisco. She would conquer a girl as soon as a guy, and once I gave in to her advances, I didn’t regret it.
And here was Alicia, working her way in between my legs with an expertise that told me she’d done this before. No one had more incentive to please me than her, right? Talk about making amends! Snaking her tongue around my clit certainly counted.
Jackson came out the bathroom, towel around his waist, just in time to see my legs clamped around Alicia’s head as I came in her face. Maybe I pulled her head into my pussy a little hard, I don’t know, but Alicia seemed happy to submit. When I let her up, her face was slick with my juices and she wore a big, happy smile.
“Why, thank you, Alicia!” I said awkwardly, as if she had just dropped off a nice poinsettia. The three of us laughed, also awkwardly.
It’s funny how the bliss of orgasm can quickly give way to mixed feelings. I was never very good at leaving Alicia’s house, and this time was no exception. We didn’t share many words as I got Jackson out the door with my own jeans quickly donned and zipped.
I didn’t see Brad on the way out, and he didn’t show his face. Fifteen minutes later, Jackson and I were sipping drinks at Starbucks.
“What just happened?” I asked him as he stirred his chai. And finally, we had a laugh without repercussions.
For a couple of weeks I didn’t give Brad and Alicia much thought. But before too long, they started popping back into my mind. I was like that guy in the movie Pi trying to solve a craz
y math formula. There was a riddle I hadn’t figured out yet either. Back to the scene of the debauchery then ….
I insisted we do it again. This time, no one resisted. At least not to my face. Maybe Brad was unhappy about it, I don’t know. I didn’t care if I was putting Brad through the ringer—hell, he got some nice orgasms for his trouble! Three weeks later, same routine. Drinks on Alicia’s patio—a bit less awkward this time. Then, a bit more pot—hand-rolled Jackson style—then, the bedroom.
But … something was different. This time, as Jackson and Alicia began to get it on, Brad couldn’t hide the conflicted look on his face. The last time we’d gotten together, he’d started out horny, excited. Now he seemed angry, upset. Alicia and Jackson didn’t notice. They were already lost in their own erotic world, famished for each other.
Maybe Brad thought the last scene had been a one-time deal. Maybe it was beginning to dawn on him where this was all heading. Instead of sitting in the chair, he hightailed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
The loud slam got the attention of Alicia, who took time away from caressing Jackson through his boxers to look up.
“I’ve got this, Alicia,” I told her. “Don’t worry.”
Past the kitchen and down a short staircase, I found Brad in his “man cave.” I couldn’t miss it, thanks to the glow of the massive screens he had in there. There was Brad, already sunk into his recliner, flipping channels and looking petulant.
I grabbed the remote from his hand. “Brad, come over here.” I said, patting the couch. Brad came dutifully over. I smiled to myself. I liked that Brad was obedient, perhaps in a way that he was not with Alicia. Even pissed off, he had no choice but to follow my directives. Or so it seemed to me. “Come on, it’s okay,” I added.
Brad’s eyes welled up. Next thing I knew, he was crying on my shoulder, and I was consoling him. When I held him closer, the tears flowed faster.
Sobs erupted as I cooed into his ear. But Brad didn’t need someone to feel bad for him. Fine by me, because I was not feeling bad for Brad.
My Husband's Adventures Page 6