by Matthew Lee
“I'm fine.”
“No, Mark, are you okay?”
I met her inquiring gaze. “Yes, Baby, I'm fine. That was reckless but I'm not angry. Should we leave?”
“Not yet. You both got off but I didn't and I want a helper.” With a nod of her head she indicated a large dildo hanging on the wall. It was about twice my size and darker than me. It took me a second, I'm embarrassed to admit, but at least I figured it out.
“That's the dildo Marco showed you when I saw you two talking, isn't it?”
“Yup.”
“And now that I've seen it, it sure looks an awful lot like his dick, too. Did you know it was him when he first came through the wall?”
“Know? Of course not. I thought he was keeping watch over us.”
I stopped talking. I strongly suspected when that anonymous cock had pushed through that hole, she'd known it belonged to Marco. I took the replica penis off the wall to buy for her.
“Really?” she asked, surprised and excited.
“Oh yeah,” I answered. “You need the mischief fucked out of you.”
She smiled. “I really do,” she admitted.
Hours later I untied her wrists. She was an exhausted mess. She curled up into a little ball and fell into a satisfied sleep, a tiny smile curling her lips. On the bed next to her lay the big dildo.
She'd confessed Marco had told her that dildo looked just like him and she'd known it was him when his cock came through the wall and had sucked it anyway. She hadn't planned any of it but was thrilled when I let her touch the first one and giddy when I didn't get angry over her sucking the second. She hadn't planned on swallowing him but when the moment arrived, instinct took over.
I left her sleeping and headed for our home office. I needed a drink and to think. Each time that fidelity line was crossed, I got more excited than I'd ever been. I was beginning to believe we needed to take a huge step across it and to entertain that notion, I needed a drink. The dildo had driven her insane and I admit it looked sexy sliding in and out of her. I was sure she fantasized it was Marco fucking her since it matched him almost exactly.
For the next several hours I searched the internet for everything I could find about wife sharing. I was shocked at how many people lived this peculiar lifestyle. I watched a few videos and they turned me on but really I was looking for information. I wanted to know how to do it, what could go wrong, would we regret it, and was it worth it.
My research didn't definitively answer anything for me but it did give me a better understanding of the entire subculture, and it felt good to know I was one of millions of men that felt the same way.
I was more surprised by the number of wives and girlfriends that eagerly participated. They took a little more convincing as most suspected their man was just using it as a way to fuck new women, and some worried it would hurt their relationship. Once those fears were allayed the women responded with greater enthusiasm than the men, welcoming one new lover after the next.
Before she drifted off to her deep sleep, Amy confessed many new sexual feelings to me; playing with Meagan was similar to something she'd done before but Meagan involving Frankie had been totally new, and she found it thrilling. She swore she'd always be loyal to me but the idea of sex with a new man was intoxicating. She'd confessed her sex drive had been growing rapidly over the last few years.
At the adult store she'd enjoyed her first penis and then sucking Marco had put her over the top. This was a new kind of sex for her and she was terribly curious. She loved that it turned me on and as she gained more confidence that I wouldn't be angry, she wanted to do it more often and push the envelope even farther. She asked me to think about it.
So here I was, Jack Daniels in hand, glowing monitor in my face. I was intrigued and frightened and had no idea where to begin, but my gut told me these feelings were not just going away.
I shied away from allowing her to fuck Frankie; too many relationship complications there. But Amy could get any man she wanted. Out in public she turned heads wherever we went. She was young, gorgeous, and had an incredible body.
I walked back to the bedroom and stood in the doorway and watched her sleep. I wondered if this was something I could actually allow her to do. I had already given her permission once and then withdrawn it. I needed to make up my mind about this and then live with the results. If we tried it and hated it at least we tried it. I swallowed the last gulp of whiskey and reached a decision; when Amy awoke, I'd tell her okay, but not Frankie. Frankie was off limits.
Our conversation went better than I expected. She seemed hesitant, like she thought I'd change my mind again any second, but came to understand this time I meant it. The more convinced she became, the happier she got. When I told her no Frankie she didn't bat an eye. She cared not at all. She crawled out of bed and kissed me deeply, then reached for her purse. She found her phone and began tapping out a text.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Sending Marco a text,” she replied, distracted.
My body temperature shot through the roof.
“What? How do you have his number?”
“He gave it to me at the store. While we were looking at fake cocks and talking.”
She looked up at my face and stopped. An exasperated sigh escaped her.
“Again?” she complained.
I caught myself and rearranged my face. “No, no, you go ahead. Sorry. You just surprised me. Why did you ask him for it?”
“I didn't. He offered.”
She scrutinized me and then returned to typing. My heart was pounding inside my chest and I felt light-headed. I told myself to get a grip and see this through. I thought about asking what she was writing but suspected it would sound accusatory.
“So,” I intoned. “Marco, huh?”
“Yes. Marco. He's big. That dildo felt incredible. Can you imagine when it's the real thing? Probably not, but I can. I don't know what's up with my but I have a total lust for big cocks now. They're amazing.”
She smiled up at me. A second later she hit send and sat her phone down.
“I'm starving, Mark. Let's go out.”
I realize now I should have talked more at that moment, but I was as new to the idea as she. I didn't know what questions to ask. I didn't know what rules to make. We were both figuring it out as we went along. I knew I could trust her and didn't know how to question her without making her feel distrusted. Too many rules would ruin it, so I kept my mouth shut.
Three days later I was home from work and waiting on Amy. I had my drink in hand while hers sat on the kitchen counter. My phone rang. She was driving home and informed me she'd be late.
“How late?” I wondered.
“Very late. Very, very late.”
Once again my heart started doing flips behind my ribs.
“Why?”
“Drinks with Marco.”
I tried to swallow but failed. I tried to remember what she'd worn to work that morning and thought it was a fairly short black skirt and teal short-sleeved blouse. I had to force my lips apart to speak.
“Drinks?” was all I managed.
“Yes,” she stated. “Wait up for me, and be ready. I love you.”
“I love you too. Ready for what?”
The phone went dead. I dropped onto the sofa.
Fuck. It was happening for real.
This was not how I imagined it. I had expected to be there to watch, like our first time with Meagan. I wanted to be able to control what happened, to let Amy know when I started to get uncomfortable or if she was going too far. I had expected weeks would pass and I would have time to prepare myself. Part of me doubted it would ever actually happen.
Then I realized that's exactly why she was doing it this way.
Now she was free to do everything exactly the way she wanted and tell me about it later. I could complain if I wanted, establish rules and tell her what was out of bounds, bitch and scream and complain, but all after the fact. No doubt
she was tired of me dragging my feet and changing my mind. Forgiveness is so much easier than permission.
The ice shifted in my glass and I looked down at it.
Amy was driving to Marco's.
I didn't even know where he lived.
I thought about calling her to get his address and tell her how uncomfortable this plan made me but I didn't. She had maneuvered us to this position intentionally. I knew what was really happening here. I finished my drink in one gulp and poured another. I finished that drink in two. Marco's cock is much bigger than mine.
Be ready, she'd said, and I knew she meant ready to fuck her, but my penis was already starting to ache with desire.
I poured a third drink and walked to our bedroom. I opened the bottom drawer and pulled out the big toy I'd purchased for her. It looked exactly like Marco's cock. I held the dildo next to my penis and my mind reeled; Marco was so much bigger than me! Amy loved this toy. I could not imagine what a real penis that size would do to her.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check the time of our call; twenty four minutes ago. Depending on how close to his place she was when she called and I would guess sitting at the curb in front, she was with him by now.
I started to grow harder. I stripped. My balls were hot. One of the items I'd read about while doing my Hot-wife research was testicles went into sperm production overdrive when the wife was away from the husband. I felt my balls doing that now. My whole body felt feverish. I crawled onto our bed and leaned my back against the headboard.
Amy was at Marco's.
I wondered if they were kissing by now. He was about to meet her big breasts. He was about to meet her pussy. Oh my God Marco was about to touch Amy's pussy!
This was pure agony. My penis swelled to rock hardness.
I'd seen her suck him, so those images flowed through my mind and I couldn't stop them. I'd watched her swallow his cum.
My mind jumped to that fat cock pushing deep up inside her cunt and alarm bells sounded. His sperm! Amy and I hadn't discussed birth control. Would he wear a condom? He had to; she wasn't on the pill. I started freaking out but my dick just got harder. I grabbed my phone and hit speed-dial but my call went straight to voice-mail. Now I was absolutely certain she was at his place. We were deep in it now. This was really happening.
Amy was fucking Marco. Right now, as I lay in our bed with a penis so hard it hurt, my wife was on her back with her legs spread wide open and another man hammering away at her sweet little pussy. I began stroking, my eyes riveted to the big replica cock lying next to me that I knew mirrored the cock fucking Amy. I moaned. I knew he was driving her crazy right at this very moment and I'd given her permission! She was there, under him, fucking him, because I'd said she could.
I held that dildo up so I got a good look at it and felt the familiar tingling in my balls of an impending orgasm. So fast! I was dying inside. The angst was eating me alive yet somehow also fueled a wild erotic excitement I felt powerless to resist.
I brought the dildo up next to my penis. The difference was astonishing. Marco's big cock was going to give Amy a lot of orgasms.
My balls tightened and my dick jumped in my hand and a spurt of hot jizz shot out across our bedspread. My butt lifted and my penis spat again and then again. The orgasm was intense as it sucked my imagination down and out my dick. I moaned and fell over face down.
As soon as I came all my excitement about Marco fucking Amy left with my semen. Only my anguish remained. I felt my chest caving in. I felt panic and jealousy. I got angry but that soon gave way to despair. I was sure our marriage was ending. No doubt Amy had a new love now; sexy, handsome, big-dick Marco had stolen her and I'd helped him do it. I was a fool.
I went to the kitchen I poured another whiskey and turned off all the lights and stared into the front yard, hoping for any sign she was home, she'd just been fucking with my mind. She hadn't gone to his place after all. I paced the house, looking out each window, staring out into the city, all the way to Marco's place.
I took a shower and noticed Amy's closet door still open from this morning. I glanced at her clothes and sure enough, that teal blouse was missing. She looked great in that outfit, an outfit I'm sure now lay scattered across Marco's bedroom floor. I sat on the bed and brought my eyes to the big dildo again. I held it up by the balls and aimed it right at my face; no doubt a view Amy has already enjoyed several times tonight.
I felt my penis stir. I stroked the dildo like I was trying to get a man off and my penis grew firmer. This monster was terrorizing my wife as I sat here. How big were Marco's testicles, I wondered? I hadn't seen them through the glory hole. I closed my eyes to recall his orgasm that day and how many times Amy had to swallow. He came a gallon. His balls must be huge. My penis lifted higher and I took it in hand.
A thought occurred to me; Amy's been gone long enough now he's possibly had her more than once. Holy Hell! He's filled her twice! My dick jumped and blood flowed and in seconds I was miraculously stiff once more. I jerked it imagining Marco fucking my wife strong and deep, filling her with his seed, pumping his sperm into her eager, hungry, and unprotected pussy.
My powerful climax hit me totally unprepared and I flopped onto the bed as I sprayed jizz everywhere.
As soon as I finished, the despair rushed back in. I felt like crying. I felt so stupid. Why had I agreed to this? I closed my eyes and pressed my palms against them until I saw weird stars.
I woke up about an hour later with my hands still covering my face. I stumbled out of bed and flew through the house searching for my wife but I was still alone. I checked the clock in the kitchen and it was after eleven. I found my phone but no messages, no calls. The ice in my drink was long melted but I chugged it anyway and made another. I showered again.
I tried to watch Sports Center but my mind always drifted to images of Marco fucking Amy, or Amy sucking Marco's huge cock. Before I knew it my penis began to rise again.
I closed my eyes and stopped fighting it and a pornographic video played in my head as my wife worshiped and adored Marco's huge slab of meat, climaxing again and again all over him, drenching the massive pole embedded far up inside her with her overflowing pussy juices. Incredibly, I came again, hard, but almost no semen came out. I'd pumped myself dry. I took my drink into the kitchen to add ice and after adding the second cube heard a car door close outside.
I glanced at the clock; twelve twenty four. Before I could pass the front door on the way to grab some clothes, it opened and Amy entered, catching me naked in our kitchen.
She looked a mess; not only was her blouse buttoned wrong but her bra was missing so her small dark nipples poked through the sheer fabric. Her lipstick was gone and her hair tangled. She held her shoes in her hand. Her cheeks were rosy and her lips full and red. A single hickey marked her throat next to her left clavicle. Guilt filled her eyes. She looked me up and down, her eyes resting on my shriveled and exhausted penis.
“You couldn't wait?” She asked.
I shook my head and gulped the last of my whiskey.
She closed the door and took a step towards the bathroom.
“Stop,” I ordered. She froze. “You've been with him?”
She nodded her head and took another step, no doubt wanting desperately to shower.
“Do not move,” I commanded and meant it. She stood still.
I stepped before her, inspecting every square centimeter of my wayward wife. I opened her blouse and saw her nipples were puffy. I smelled his aftershave and something else, something musky. I saw a hint of beard-burn on her face. I took her shoes and placed them on the floor, circling around behind her. What looked like several drops of dried milk dotted her skirt near her hem. One of her pockets bulged.
“What's in your pocket?” I asked, my voice shaky.
She withdrew a tiny ball of black lace and handed it over. I opened her panties. A strong musky odor wafted. The crotch was soaked. I dropped them on her shoes.
Back in front
I reexamined her breasts and noticed they were marked with red scratches and welts. An imprint of teeth still dented her right areola. Her nipples tightened in the cool air of the house but she made no move to cover herself. Shame kept her eyes down but her posture told me she felt exhilaration too.
I tilted her chin up until her eyes met mine. I kissed her lips once, soft and tender, and then again, harder. She sucked air and returned my kiss with throttled and barely contained passion. Her salty and tangy tongue forced aside my lips and wormed into my mouth. I held her face and returned the impassioned kiss, my hand drifting down to the zipper of her skirt. She stepped out without breaking our kiss.
I nervously slipped a hand down her stomach until my fingers found her labia. I split her open and my touch was greeted with a flood of warm liquid. My heart stopped. A gush of fluid poured from her pussy onto my knuckles and dripped to our tile floor. I could not stop the moan that escaped me. Encouraged, she leaned closer and her body-heat cooked me. She whispered into my ear.
“I've been so very bad,” she breathed hotly.
I moaned again and her fingers closed around my soft penis. “How much do you want to know?” she asked.
I hesitated. I was dying to know everything and terrified by what she might tell me. Curiosity won.
“Tell me. Tell me all of it.”
Amy tugged my unresponsive penis.
“First, tell me why you didn't wait like I asked. I needed this hard when I got home. I know you came without me, didn't you? Were you too excited? Did the thought of me with Marco drive you crazy? Did you make yourself cum?”
“Three times.”
“Three!” A cruel smile curled her lips. “I wanted you to reclaim my naughty pussy but you can't for now, she belongs to Marco until you can get it up again. I knew you liked it but I didn't know you liked it that much, Baby. It seems more like you love it. Three is a record for you.”
I wasn't really listening. My mind was still reeling from her comment about her pussy belonging to him. She was right. In the way that men can possess women, at this moment Marco owned my wife. I felt primal triggers flipping all over inside my head. I wanted to kill a mastodon. I wanted to smear my face with war-paint. I wanted to drag Amy to the floor and ravish her.