My Husband's Adventures

by Alex Hathaway

  “It’s okay, Brad, it’s okay,” I whispered as he cried.

  The sobs abated.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” I asked. I suddenly realized I felt closer to Brad than to men I’d known far longer. Brad had exposed himself in just about every way, stripped away his manhood in front of me. That takes guts.

  “I’m going to lose her,” Brad exhaled. A few more sobs. I wiped his snotty face with a Kleenex. Suddenly, Brad looked boyishly cute to me, in a guy-from-tech-support kind of way.

  “Can’t you see? She’s falling in love with Jackson,” he spit out.

  I’m not gonna lie—it was a verbal slap. But even though Jackson drives me nuts sometimes, I knew deep down Brad was wrong. Across the house, we could hear Alicia starting to yell and moan, her cries attempting to contradict me.

  “Well, first off, Brad, that’s not going to happen.”

  “How do you know?”

  “First off, I’m not going to let them fuck again. Maybe one more time, if they’re lucky.”

  “But … they’ll just find a way. Jackson said—”

  “Yes, well I don’t care what Jackson says,” I replied. “I know I can’t control Jackson’s cock like Alicia does yours ….”

  Brad blushed.

  “But I can certainly stop him from fucking a particular person. Jackson loves me, Brad. I’ve never doubted that. Yes, he is stubborn about fucking other women,” I conceded. “It’s getting harder to deny him that.” I shook my head. “Even harder after watching what he does for them.” He flinched, telling me I had hit a sore spot.

  We actually had to stop for a minute to let Alicia’s screams subside. She was clearly orgasming now. Probably squirting, that fucking horny bitch. More twitching from Brad’s cock, which was poking against his zipper.

  “Brad, pretty soon Jackson will be history for you and Alicia. He’ll still be giving me some problems, but those will be my problems.”

  “You think so?” Brad asked hopefully.

  “But Jackson’s leaving doesn’t begin to solve your problem, Brad,” I went on.

  Brad gave me a quizzical look. And then it hit me: I knew exactly what I needed to do.

  “Let me show you what I’m talking about.”

  I got up, shut the man cave door to keep Alicia’s screams at bay, and knelt in front of Brad. I started working on his zipper.

  “Wha-wha-what are you doing?” Brad protested—kind of.

  “Exactly what you wanted, Brad, what you need.”

  With that, I had his cock out of his fly and firmly in hand.

  “Oh my god!” Brad called out.

  He hardened immediately.

  “This is your problem, Brad,” I said, jerking him with my thumb and index finger. “This is the source of your problem with Alicia—your little penis!”

  It really was tiny. It couldn’t have been much more than four inches, and it was as hard as it was ever going to get.

  Without warning, Brad spurted helplessly in my hand and onto my shirt.

  “Oh Jeezus, Brad!” I scolded him. “I liked this shirt!”

  Brad looked sheepish.

  I didn’t let him off the hook, either. “Wow, Brad, what a tiny, ineffective penis you have.”

  Brad’s face flashed a look of shame. And worry. But I wasn’t going anywhere. I stood up as if to give him a lap dance, shimmying my shirt off, slow and sexy, letting Brad get his first private look at my breasts. His eyes widened. I tossed the cum-stained shirt aside.

  “See, Brad, this is the problem,” I said. “Now that Alicia has been fucked by a man like Jackson, your marriage is never safe.” I paused. “C’mon, Brad, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  Brad gave me a fearful look.

  “You know what I’m talking about Brad, don’t you? Don’t you?!”

  A moment’s hesitation, then, finally … a nod. “Sometimes I wish she wasn’t … such a slut!” he blurted out.

  “Oh, there’s more to it than that, Brad,” I said. I started working his penis again, coaxing it back toward erection, starting gently. He exhaled. “Fuck, your dick is tiny, Brad! Look how I’m stroking it with just a couple of fingers. It’s so thin …. It takes two hands to make Jackson’s cock cum. And you have to work at it.” I clicked my tongue. “And … he cums so much more than your little boy penis does!”

  I was teasing him, but not really. Biology can be cruel as hell. Brad thrust his hips as his erection firmed. He was over his sexual shock and heading toward another cum.

  “Brad, let me demonstrate,” I said. The thought of what I was about to do gave me a rush of naughty, cruel power.

  I was already shirtless; taking off my skirt didn’t take much, just an extra tug across my big hips, and then swiveling out. Brad looked like a kid at Disney World. Next, my panties, and soon I was leaning on the side of the couch, my ass raised high in the air.

  “C’mon, Brad, take this pussy!”

  I moved my ass around in a slow, teasing circle—a trademark move that would have had Jackson slamming into me in an instant. But Brad hesitated.

  “Brad, c’mon! Your wife is getting her brains fucked out. She isn’t thinking about you. Get over here and fuck me!”

  Still hesitant, but plenty hard, Brad came up behind me. He had to tiptoe a bit to line his cock up.

  “Put it in me Brad!”

  I had to suppress a laugh as Brad fumbled like a virgin around my opening.

  I wasn’t sure if he was inside, but then I thought I felt something. I looked back; Brad had pushed up against me.

  “Are you in, Brad?”

  “I … yes,” he said.

  “Then give it to me, Brad! Take this pussy!”

  Brad tried to fuck me, but from this standing angle, he couldn’t keep it in. I thought I felt something for a second, but then he was out again.

  God, I can be diabolical. I suddenly recalled how much Daniel had struggled to take me like this. In my catharsis, I almost called Brad “Daniel.”

  “Okay, that’s not going to work,” I said. I guided Brad to the couch and sat him down.

  I put my thighs on Brad’s lap so that his dick was leaning in front of me, though it was barely hard anymore. I reached down to solve that problem.

  “What’s wrong, Brad?”

  “I … I guess I’m nervous.”

  “Well, Brad, you should be nervous. I’m a hot girl who needs to be fucked, and I expect you to do it properly.”

  My fingers seemed to have an electric effect on his dick—he was getting hard in record time.

  “Brad, have you ever seen Jackson fuck Alicia from behind like we did?”

  “Yes …” he said.

  “Was she screaming and yelling?”

  “Oh god, yes,” Brad said.

  “Did he have any trouble falling out?”

  “No …” Brad admitted.

  “You see, Brad,” I said as I stroked him, “girls need to have their pussies used and taken. They need to be pounded, filled, to scream and cum. And your thin little dick can’t do that. You know that, right Brad? Deep down, you know that.”

  “Yes …” he moaned. It gave me so much satisfaction to hear Brad confess this that I felt my own pussy dripping.

  “Brad, did you notice how often you slipped out of me?”

  “Yes ….”

  “That’s not how you make a pussy cum. And the thing is, doggy isn’t even a difficult position for a real man. There are so many positions guys like you can’t even use, because your little dicks can’t reach. Guys like Jackson have a huge fucking advantage over you. And once they learn how to use that advantage,” I added, twisting the knife, “then they go after hot women like your wife.”

  Brad moaned.

  “Even if she promises to be faithful to you, she can’t,” I said. “Trust me on this one, Brad.” I slowly stroked him and then let go, careful not to get him too excited. I wasn’t done with him yet.

  I got off the couch, keeping my pose sed
uctive, enjoying Brad’s depraved look as he filmed my naked breasts with his eyes, as if he knew he might not get another chance.

  “You like what you see, Brad?” I said, looking him right in the eye as I bent over him and swayed.

  He looked away, kind of ashamed, but he didn’t stop stroking either.

  “Do you like this pussy, Brad?” I asked him, rubbing my fingers down between my thighs to give him a closer look as I pried my lips open for him.

  “Oh, yeah!” Brad said.

  I loved watching him stroke his little dick. Lots of Brads must have done that over the years, imagining my naked body. But this was the first time I had actually seen it with my own eyes.

  “This pussy needs a good fucking, Brad,” I said. I rubbed my fingers down, feeling the electric pull from my cunt. “Do you think you can please this tight little pussy, Brad?” I kept my eyes locked with his.

  His hesitation said it all. “Let’s see what you can do, Brad….” With that, I quickly straddled him, towering over his white-collar body. “Let’s see how well you fuck.”

  Without waiting for Brad to answer, I guided his little dick inside. It took concentration and finger holding to get him in—very different from Jackson. where I could just give his big head a nudge.

  But then Brad was inside me.

  I started rocking up and down, careful not to raise my hips too far. I could only go up a couple inches with each thrust or he’d fall out.

  I put my hands on his shoulders. I felt less like I was riding him, and more like I was pushing him into the couch.

  Brad moaned.

  “See, Brad? You’re fucking me!”

  “Oh god!” Brad called out.

  “Brad, does my pussy feel good?”

  “Oh yes!”

  “I can’t feel your little dick at all. Nothing, Brad!”

  That wasn’t completely true; I could feel a very mild tickle and sometimes a small pleasure when I pressed down on him, but it was true enough to twist the knife in Brad.

  I said, “This isn’t fucking, Brad!” I wiggled easily up and down on his dick. “With Jackson, by now I’d be slamming up and down on his pole, fucking him till my legs shook. But if I slam on you,” I raised my legs up a bit to prove the point, “your tiny dick slips out.”

  And it was true. His dick wasn’t in me anymore.

  Brad’s expression reflected a weird mix of desire and utter despair.

  I was using him, crushing him, but I couldn’t stop myself.

  I worked his cock up and down outside my pussy with my fingers, trying to keep him hard and not intimidate him into a noodle.

  “You see, Brad, you can’t please a woman like this. Not when she needs a real fucking!”

  Brad moaned.

  “Jackson makes me bounce on him until it hurts, until I beg him to let me make him cum.”

  Brad’s face flashed shame and desire. “I can last …” he said, defiantly.

  “What?” I asked him, surprised he dared say anything.

  “I can last … until you feel good.”

  “Oh Brad. I’m sorry, but there’s no way.”

  “Here … I’ll show you,” Brad pleaded.

  “Brad, there’s no chance you can last more than a couple minutes inside my pussy.”

  “Oh yes I can!” Brad insisted, as if holding onto the last shred of the alpha male he once was—or thought he was. Please let me try to please you.”

  It was important to Brad, so I let him try. But I knew that the way I was grinding and the high degree of self-control I had, he was bound to fail.

  “Brad, your tiny dick is going to squirt so fast inside.”

  He groaned but then grabbed my shoulders, trying like hell to hold me down on him further. I made a point of keeping the thrusts close, knowing that if I somehow kept him inside me, he wouldn’t last.

  I started laughing. “Brad, you’re tickling me! Cum for me, Brad. Squirt your little boy penis!”

  “Oh …” he moaned.

  “Doesn’t matter, Brad, don’t try to last. Your little dick could fuck me for an hour and I still wouldn’t cum.” I stared right into his eyes so he’d know I wasn’t just saying that to make him excited. I meant every fucking word.

  “That’s it … squirt!” I sat down on him hard.

  Brad’s face lost its determination, and looking helpless, he squirted, just as I’d predicted.

  “Brad, that’s it? When Jackson cums, he blasts all over the back of my walls …. I couldn’t even feel your little spurts.”

  I sat down on him, but not before removing his ineffective penis. No, Brad wasn’t wearing a condom. But I was confident he hadn’t impregnated me with his small, ineffective load. I wiped it on Brad’s T-shirt. I know, classy.

  Then I sat down next to him, still giggling at his pathetic attempt at fucking.

  Before I could say anything else mean to him, Brad started to cry again.

  In an instant, my mood shifted. I pulled him onto my shoulder again, comforting him.

  “It’s not fair,” Brad said. “I love her so much.”

  “And you want to be everything she needs,” I said, completing his thought, if not his sentence.

  “Yesssss ….” Brad was almost sobbing now.

  “Brad, I know this is hard, but honestly, you are lucky. Alicia just adores you.”

  “But I … I never wanted this,” he insisted.

  “And I never wanted Jackson to fuck other girls like your wife!” I said to him, sitting him up straight. “Brad, you have to be strong. Just like I need to be.”

  I handed him a Kleenex from the lamp table.

  “Just like you want to be all things to Alicia, I want Jackson to be all things to me. But he’s not.”

  “He … isn’t?”

  “Well, for one thing, he can’t—no, refuses—to keep his dick in his pants.”

  We both laughed at the obviousness of that, though Alicia’s moans had finally subsided.

  “But that’s not all, Brad.” Brad looked at me attentively, as if his own marriage hung on my every word.

  “Jackson, well, he lacks a certain sensitivity. He’s a good man, but … before him, I was in love with a guy who was, well, a lot like you, Brad. He was so thoughtful and sweet, and we had this deep emotional connection. Nobody took care of me like my Daniel.”

  I hadn’t mentioned Daniel’s name to anyone else in a long time.

  I realized I was selling Daniel short. “But that’s not all, Brad. Daniel was really fucking smart, and really successful. He deserved way more than I gave him.”

  “But … you broke up with him?”

  “Yes, I did,” I admitted. “I left him for Jackson. But … sometimes regret it.” I had never confessed this before, or even thought through it. But as the words left my mouth, I could hear their truth. “And even when I don’t regret it, I miss him. I miss the feeling of being best friends, of sharing … almost everything.” I was silent for a moment, remembering. “Even stupid things,” I continued, “like when we took long road trips, Daniel would lie down and put his head in my lap. Jackson … he would never do anything like that. It was just a closeness Daniel and I had.”

  Brad was fascinated.

  “Maybe …” I said, “maybe one reason I am so mad at you and Alicia is because, well, the more I spend time with the two of you, the more I realize I could have done it differently. Instead of leaving Daniel, maybe I could have committed to him and had someone on the side if I got super horny, kind of like you and Alicia. It just … well, the kind of relationship you and Alicia have never occurred to me. I never imagined the other possibilities. Maybe,” I confided to Brad, “I chose the wrong husband.”

  “But Corrie,” Brad protested. “I’ve seen you and Jackson together, and I’ve heard Jackson talk about you. You have more than a sexual thing. You have a child, and you have, at least as far as I can tell, some kind of bond.”

  “Yes,” I acknowledged. “The bond has grown. It started wi
th the sex, but something else has built up. And he does have this way of making me feel like a woman, like I belong on his arm … but I’m at a crossroads, Brad. Because I always dreamed of a monogamous partner, you know—the Prince Charming who pulls you onto his horse—Richard Gere carrying you out of the factory. In those fantasies, there are never two men riding away with the same girl.” We both smirked at the absurdity of the image.

  I continued, “I don’t think I realized what it would do to me, to have to sacrifice that Prince Charming ideal, that one guy who is my everything. It really makes me crazy.”

  “Crazy horny?” asked Brad.

  “Yeah, I guess, crazy horny, but also just plain crazy, as you have seen.”

  “And so we’re here …” Brad said.

  “And so we’re here,” I agreed. We smiled at each other, laughed and hugged a bit. It was strange to be hugging him after how cruel I had been. But it felt completely right.

  “I hope you figure it out,” Brad said. “I think you will. I think you and Jackson … have a future together. I’m not sure how, but I just think you guys work as a couple.”

  “Thanks, Brad.” I needed to hear someone else say that, given all our turmoil.

  “You’ve been so … honest with me. Like no other woman has—not even Alicia.”

  “I hope I didn’t upset you, Brad,” I said.

  “Well, you did. I can’t deny that.”

  “Brad, I just wanted you to really understand what Alicia needs, so that you can be more at peace with your … arrangement.”

  “Well, I guess you did that,” Brad said. We both laughed again. I suddenly felt shy. But I pushed the shyness back; I knew what he needed to hear. “And Brad, I just wanted you to understand. It isn’t like Alicia is some kind of obsessed size queen. What she wants is what … most women want. Even if we’re really bad at admitting it, even to ourselves. Do you understand that, Brad? It’s really important that you do.”

  “I … I think so.” Brad said.

  I grabbed some more Kleenexes, wiping more of his cum off him. In doing so, I brushed up against his penis again and realized it was almost hard again already.

  Brad and I weren’t quite done after all.

  Chapter 10