by Raven Merlot
He didn’t make it far. He still came all over Christa’s belly, shooting long spurts all over her heated skin. He groaned and flexed every muscle in his body. But his throbbing cock wasn’t finished. He looked over at Stephanie and knew he wanted to share his sperm with her too.
He scooted closer to her pussy, still waiting patiently on the bed and aimed his spurting cock right into her hairy wet bush. He fired another monster wad of jizz all over her mound and pubic hair. He watched in awe as he defiled John’s wife once and for all, marking his territory clearly—if not impregnating her the way he really wanted.
After all, Connor was a gentleman and a bro, if nothing else.
“Ahhhhh!” Connor resounded, jerking his cock harder, making sure some leftover cum drops were shared between both girls.
“Ohhh fuck!” Christa moaned, wiping her belly and soaking up that glorious semen. “Thank you. Thank you.”
“Ohhh my God!” Stephanie cried, rubbing the wet cum dropping all over her hairy mound and loving the feeling of being this dirty and this fucking honest about everything. “You fucking used me…in front of my hubby…thank you.”
“The pleasure was all John’s. Isn’t that right?”
John raised his brow in suspicion. “What?”
“I promised you the best part was yet to come.”
“What do you mean? It’s over, fucker. You stole my women. You stole…”
“John! Look at them.” Connor pointed at Stephanie and Christa’s exhausted, wet bodies in grinning pride. “They’re yours. They’re both used up bitches in heat. And they want you to eat their dirty cunts.”
“What?!”
“Don’t you, girls?”
Stephanie smiled at the thought of John’s tongue tasting such dirty things. A horrible combo of Christa’s juices, her juices, and Connor’s salty semen.
“Yes. Clean my pussy up, honey. I want it sooo bad.”
“I want to cum again…” Christa said with a smile. “I know you love the taste of my pussy. No matter how wrecked it is.”
“Get in there, motherfucker,” Connor said, slapping John across the back. “Those girls want your tongue. They want your expertise skills. A real man never keeps a girl waiting.”
John stared at Stephanie and Christa in fascination. It was a hard sight to resist, that was for sure. Two beautiful girls, wet and sweaty, covered in another man’s cumshot. But they both wanted head. And if nothing else, John was always a connoisseur of pussy.
“Well, shit…now it’s a party,” John exclaimed, finally relieved that he got to do what Satan put him on the earth to do. Eat pussy! John quickly threw his shorts off and got his tongue wagging.
John yummily sucked up all their used juices, polluting his mouth with stink and sweat. He tasted everything, even the strange new taste of Connor’s man juice. It was way too hard to avoid strands of Connor cum all over Stephanie’s hairy lips since they were so doused. But John didn’t seem to care. In fact, he seemed to love how orgasmic the girls were after the third and fourth orgasm.
They came in a different way after being pussy licked post fucking. They were softer orgasms, but more intense. It almost felt as if Connor used their slut parts so thoroughly, they couldn’t orgasm as loudly anymore. But their muted orgasms actually felt better against John’s tongue. He licked their dirty cunts with zest, with passion, and most of all with deep respect. He respected his wife, he respected his girlfriend, and most of all, he respected Connor. Connor won the game, he owned his wife and his girlfriend. And after all that, who knew Connor would be such a good sport?
John was extra kind and generous to Stephanie, swallowing so much of her cum (and Connor’s leftovers) that it led to her having an even more amazing afterglow feeling. She felt almost outside of her body. She stared into space, rubbing John’s head. She thought long and hard about Connor’s dick widening her pussy hole. She thought of all the memories they shared.
With John’s tongue deep inside her wet, smelly hole, she could only speak her honest mind.
“I do…I still love you. John…I…I love you.”
“I love you too,” John answered.
“I just love him too. I love him more.”
“I know. But…maybe we can work through this.”
“I’d like to. I don’t want to lose you.”
John seemed happy with the thought. After all that dirty pussy sampling, the four friends were exhausted. It was Connor’s idea to crash on John’s bed. He slept butt naked and sprawled out, a man truly victorious over wedding rings, jealousy, secrets, and all other taboos. But the girls couldn’t help but cling to Connor. Even when Connor slept, they both made sure to lay by his side, their open naked breasts surrounding his gorgeous face.
This left only one place for John. The very bottom of the bed, which he always felt was the best seat in the house. Because at the very bottom, he could roll up into a fetal position and put his head in between their gorgeous, unbathed pussies—which he could sniff and kiss all through the night. It was a tranquil scene and in John’s mind, it was truly unadulterated desire—no apologies or explanations needed.
John derived a great deal of pleasure from eating pussy. But Connor was, of course, a gentleman and generous to a fault. Little did John know, the best erotic thrill of his life was yet to come…
Part 5: Chastity Belt Friday
John was having difficulty adjusting to a true polyamorous lifestyle. All his secrets were openly exposed. Honesty was permeating the house. Everywhere he turned, there was sex. His wife Stephanie fucking a superior cock. His mistress Christa sucking on a superior cock. There were no actual “rules” about what John could do or not do.
But he fell victim to the polyamorous paradox. Indeed, now that everyone was allowed to do whatever they wanted at any time, with no reason to hide anything, the women in his life decided that his smaller cock and poor endurance had little to no value.
When faced with a choice between John’s paltry five inches and Connor’s dong, which was literally twice that, they always chose bigger. Connor made them come hard. John fucking the girls felt only nostalgic. They remembered the love they felt with John. But when Connor fucked them, they felt passion. They felt uninhibited release.
John often complained about the situation, stating that it was not fair that women could have sex whenever they wanted and at any time, but that men are always held to a completely different standard. For women, especially women as beautiful as Stephanie and Christa, all they had to do was show up. Naked or dressed, it didn’t matter. Every man wanted to fuck them. It didn’t matter whether they were married, single, divorced, widowed, or in a polyamorous marriage. Men everywhere volunteered for the chance to become part of their lives, to share semen and have a few laughs.
John, on the other hand, was never completely trusted by the other women he approached. He would tell them honestly that he was in an open marriage. He told them what polyamorous meant. He told them that his wife allowed and understood his extramarital desires. But it was never enough. It was never enough for the women. They could have a free cock anytime they wanted. But what did John have that was so special anyway?
John never quite got over the learning curve of being open and honest about all this shit. He seemed to enjoy things more when he was keeping secrets, to be totally “honest” about it. It was sort of like a foursome marriage, except that John hardly ever had sex anymore.
Whenever he approached Stephanie, he would get the same story.
“Hey, honey!”
John would snuggle her and tug at her breasts.
“Ohhh,” she lamented. “I’m sorry, baby, but Connor just wore me out. I’m still sore. I couldn’t get wet now even if I tried.”
“Oh. Okay.” John seemed unsatisfied. “Can you at least give me a blowjob?”
“Eh…to be honest, blowjobs really aren’t doing a lot for me lately. I really like it when Connor goes down on me. And fucks me.” She laughed innocently, treating John like her BFF bu
ddy. “But that’s the rule, right? We don’t have to do anything we don’t want to do.”
“Okay. Guess I’ll go see Christa.”
“Great! I’m going to go to lie down and read.”
Fucking bitch, John thought, storming out of the bedroom and looking for Christa. That was HIS wife. Who does she think she is, denying him the sex that he deserves? He pays the bills, he owns the house. What the hell does Connor even do around this house, anyway?
When he found Christa, she was sprawled out on the couch, drunk and looking completely out of it.
“Hey!” John fakely smiled. “I want to fuck.”
“Ewww, gross,” Christa mumbled.
“What the hell happened to I love you John?”
“I do love you. Just…not in the mood.”
“Yeah, no kidding, you’re never in the mood!”
“Sorry, baby. Maybe tomorrow.”
“That’s what you said all week! And then go and screw Connor twice a day?”
Christa smiled mischievously. “Does it bother you, baby?”
“Believe it or not, NO, it doesn’t. I don’t care what you do with Connor in your own time. But I want sex and lately the only lover I have is Mr. Righty.”
Christa laughed. “That’s funny.”
“So then? Yes or no? Because if you say no again, I’m going to go out to a bar and fuck someone who appreciates a good dick.”
“Yeah, you go ahead and do that,” Christa said, still smiling.
“Fine, I will!”
Just as John threw a jacket on, Connor waltzed into the living room and eyed Christa in interest.
“Hey,” he said with that booming voice. It always turned Christa on; within seconds, she was wet and ready.
“Heeey,” she said, tilting her head back and forth, letting him know Connor’s whore was ready and standing by for orders.
Connor had a smile on his face as he walked over to the couch and unzipped his pants.
John watched in disgust as Christa pulled out his massive cock and began licking him.
She said no to him. But yes to Connor. John didn’t even have a pot to piss in anymore. He hardly belonged in his own house. It was time to leave. To be honest, in that moment, he had no idea if he was coming back.
John traveled to the local tavern where he made good use of his paycheck buying drinks for everybody. His stupid generosity got the attention of at least one bar regular.
John ordered Jennifer another round of tequila shots.
“To us!”
Jennifer giggled. “Are we an ‘us’ already? What are you so happy about, anyway? You look like the loneliest and most pathetic guy here.”
“Ouch!” John said, flipping her off as he took another drink. “Only rivaled by your slutty depressing existence.”
“Hey, I call it like I see it. And you ain’t wrong.”
“I’m not lonely. I have two wives. What do you think of that?”
“Really?”
“Yep. Even got a young stud staying in our house. Sometimes I fuck one of my wives or both of them. Sometimes I just let my houseguest play stuntcock for me. How’s that for a good life?”
“It’s colorful!”
“Yeah. The way I see it, it’s best to just be honest. Let people lust. Let people feel whatever they want to feel. Do away with the guilt, the shame, and the complexity of emotion.”
“I sort of agree with that. Within reason.”
“Fuck reason. Life is meaningless. We’re all just here to have fun. So why ruin it with stupid social conditioning about morals and ethics?”
“Are you just trying to be a depressing asshole?”
“Well, yeah,” John said not giving a damn. “Depressing asshole, I figure is right up your alley.”
“No, it isn’t,” Jennifer said defensively.
“What do you say we go to the back and I disappoint you like a real drunken asshole?”
The line worked, depressing as it was. Just a few minutes later, John had guided Jennifer over to the bathroom hallway and was madly sucking on her exposed tits.
“Mmm, yeah…” she gasped. “Show me what you got.”
John flinched as he roughly manhandled his cock, calling it to attention. But as the smile left his face, he realized there was a small, flaccid problem. His dick was a little slow on the draw. This gorgeous – well maybe that’s too generous, this available – woman was bringing her fantastic tits out and he couldn’t even get hard. Did he drink too much?
“What’s the matter, baby? Did you just now have a Mike Pence moment?”
“Fuck you,” John said, rapidly stroking his limp cock.
“Fuck off!” Jennifer said, covering her breasts back up and then stomping back to the bar.
But John was on a mission. He swore he would keep stroking until he got hard again. Much to his chagrin, he finally did get hard…but only when images of Connor fucking pussy came to mind. He saw it in full detail. That thick, veiny giant monstrosity, pounding all the juices out of his wife, then his mistress. The smiles and the face of Stephanie and Christa as Connor made them cum again and again and again.
Finally, just as John reached a full hard on, he realized the shocking truth. He couldn’t even get hard anymore unless Connor allowed him to. He was Connor’s slave just as much as Stephanie and Christa were.
**
After a disappointing climax on the floor—which wasn’t appreciated by the tavern manager—John decided to go home and pout. Connor was asleep on his bed, smothered in titties as usual. John didn’t even fit in his own bed.
He decided to take drastic measures. By God, he was going to cum tonight. At any cost. This was his house and his life and he was going to take it back. He went out again, determined to find some strange woman. He wasn’t coming back until he got laid. And to hell with what his wife or his mistress thought.
John came back an hour later with a girl named Brandye. She was dressed slutty and terrific. She had blond hair, glasses, and a bit of a butterface. But hey, who was this free-loving spirit to complain?
John was so drunk and so loud coming in, he woke Connor and the girls.
“Fuck!” John cried out, laughing his ass off as he knocked over a coffee table. “God, I love Jim Beam. What a great night.”
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You kind of puked up a lung back there.”
“No, I’m fine,” John said confidently. “Hey! Where’s my wife? Tell Stephanie to come look at my date.”
“You’re married?”
“I told you,” John said grouchily. “I’m poly. I have two wives.”
Stephanie and Christa came out and joined Connor. They looked on in grief. The poor cuck bastard. What was he doing?
“Stephanie, eh!” John said, drunk off his ass, but definitely feeling some good vibes. “This is Brandye. I’m going to fuck her while you watch.”
“Right,” Stephanie said with an eye roll. “If you can even get it up?”
“Oh, I can get it up, HONEY. Don’t you worry about that.”
“This is your wife?” Brandye asked again.