Cuckold's Warning free porn video

Chapter 1

I know from what I've read on this Website, as well as many other s**ttered throughout the Internet, that thousands of men have fantasies of being cuckolded by their wives. Maybe you'll change your minds about ever trying to make that fantasy come true after you've read what happened to me.

Like you, I dreamed of being a cuckold. When my wife and I were having sex, I constantly fantasized about it being another man lying atop her, his hardon ramming in and out of her pussy. Of course, I was always "forced" to watch the lovemaking, and then further "forced" to perform cleanup duty afterwards. My favorite part was where she pushed my head down to her lover's slimy cock, and then when I had finished with him, sat on my mouth and fed me mouthful after mouthful of their delicious mixed juices.

It was always a surefire way for me to get my rocks off. Visions of another man's cock in my mouth, followed by a great big serving of cream pie, was virtually the only type of sexual fantasy I had, and as could be predicted, it finally developed into an obsession. Little did I know that my wife had begun to share that fixation with me, although she never said anything about it to me, just as I never said anything to her.

What finally happened to break that barrier of silence between us was pretty trivial, as most beginnings are. It happened almost one year ago today, in fact, and I'll never forget it. Quite the opposite, I think of it almost every waking moment, wondering how different things would be today if I hadn't made that one mistake.

My mistake was simple enough, and I'm sure many other men have made it also, especially if they use their computers to surf the Internet in search of more and more fodder for their fantasies. That's exactly what I was doing when I found a Website that proclaimed itself "The Last Word in Cuckolding," promising thousands of stories, photos, and videos would be available to me if I only became a member.

The preview tour the site offered was much better done than usual, and believe me, I'd seen them all. I suppose it was that more than anything else that finally persuaded me to enter my credit card number, and in less than a minute I had been granted admission.

The place certainly lived up to its billing, and in my estimation it was the best I'd ever seen. Story after story, all well written, told of men being cuckolded. Some of them had introduced their wives to the idea, while others had found out their wives had taken lovers, and then became intrigued with the idea of hiding in the closet to watch. Some had been led to accept the idea of being a cuckold, with the leading done by their wife.

It was the last story line that was my favorite, since it closely paralleled my fantasy in which Sandie (my wife, Sandra) told me she was no longer satisfied with my little penis, and either I could consent to her having other men in our bed, or she would leave me. Of course, I always "reluctantly" went along with her, and then, again "reluctantly," was made to do my part after the lovers had reached their orgasms.

The photos and videos were great, too. I especially loved the ones that showed the woman lying on the bed, with cum beginning to run out of her freshly-fucked pussy. She was holding her husband's head with both hands, forcing it down on the other man's still-erect cock, which was covered with its own coating of slimy goo.

Although I had the good sense to not print any of the photos, I just couldn't resist doing so with some of the really hot stories. I was sure they'd be easy to hide in the papers on my desk, especially since Sandie never used it for her own work. I figured that by printing the stories, they'd be available when I needed them, especially at those times when my wife was using our shared computer.

I'm sure you can already predict what happened, and you're right. Sandie was looking for our stapler, of all the silly things, when she decided it just had to be in one of my desk drawers, since she'd looked every other place she could think of. Of course, when she opened my special drawer, my secret was out. The top story just happened to be titled, "Sandie Takes a Lover," and, just as that name had caught my attention, so it did hers. She read the first few paragraphs, and then the whole story, and the rest is history.

I'm sure 99% of the wives out there would have reacted in one of these two ways: Some would have been ashamed to learn that their husbands had such horrible fantasies, and done their best to ignore the situation. Others would have reacted with anger, and confronted their husbands. Sandie is not like that, though. Her reaction was to look through the drawer for similar stories, and then read them from start to finish.

She told me that's just what she did, and with each new story, she began to become more excited. She understood then that we both had been sharing essentially the same fantasy, but were too timid to talk about it. She resolved to put an end to that situation, and in her straightforward manner, that's what she did.

When I came home from work that evening, she called a greeting to me from the living room, and asked me to join her. That was unusual, to say the least, since it was her usual practice to be in the kitchen, preparing dinner.

As I entered the room, I saw her sitting on the couch, and a pile of papers on the coffee table in front of her. She patted the cushion next to her, indicating she wanted me to sit there, and so I did. I idly glanced at the papers, and that's when my heart almost stopped. The top page bore the title, in large letters, "Sandie Takes a Lover."

I'm sure my face must have been beet red then, as I blushed in shame. I felt rather like a small boy who has been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, or maybe more aptly, in his undershorts. I was sure she'd be angry with me for harboring such dirty thoughts, especially since they involved her having sex with other men, and then taking the dominant role by forcing me to perform cleanup duties.

She began simply enough by saying, "I found these stories in your desk today when I was looking for the stapler. Some of them are really good. I assume you liked them also, or you wouldn't have printed them. Is that top one your favorite?"

She paused then and looked directly at me, waiting for an answer. My brain was racing as I tried to devise an answer that would show my interest was entirely innocent. Believe it or not, I even considered telling her I was doing a research project as part of my job. However, since my work is in sales for a construction company, I doubted that'd be at all believable.

Finally I just decided to accept my medicine, and meekly replied, "Yes."

She smiled then, partly at my embarrassment, but more in satisfaction that I'd decided to answer honestly. Knowing it was up to her to continue the conversation, she said, "Seeing my name in the title caught my attention, of course. Then when I read what the woman was doing, and making her husband do, it got even more interesting. What's your favorite part of the story?"

I simply couldn't come to terms with her question, or indeed this whole conversation. I'd been hiding my fantasy, and the stories, for so long that it was difficult for me to face the issue head on. After a pause, I understood that she wasn't in the least angry with me, and even seemed to be pleased with what I'd done.

I still couldn't commit myself, though, and tried to equivocate by answering, "I don't know. I guess the whole thing was interesting."

She wouldn't let me off that easily, and went on in her usual conversational tone of voice, saying, "My favorite is when she forces her husband to clean her lover's cock. I think it'd be really exciting to see men doing that. Of course, if it were us in that story, I'd like the part where you had your cream pie afterwards. That would probably feel really good, don't you think?"

Again, I was at a loss for words. Finally I replied, "Yes. I think she'd like it."

She wouldn't let me off the hook that easily, and continued, "I didn't ask about some other woman and man. I was wondering what would be our favorite part, if we did that. It's exciting when I think about watching you suck another man's cock, and then feeling you eat his cum out of my pussy. Is that the part that gets you hot, too?"

Sandie had always been the more plain-spoken of the two of us, but even that had seemed to reach new heights. It was common for her to use the words "cock" and "pussy," but to use them in this new context was very different. She snuggled up close to me then, put one arm around my shoulders, and began very lightly rubbing my crotch. She asked softly, "I wonder if another man's cum would taste as good as yours. Do you suppose it'd be something you'd like?"

She put the question like that because I had indeed given her oral sex after we'd had intercourse, and so was very familiar with the taste of my own semen. She had said early in our marriage that her orgasms were just as important as mine, and made me promise that if I climaxed first, I'd keep going until she had joined me.

There had been many times when my penis simply wouldn't cooperate after it'd shot its load, and that was when she would insist that I "get down there," as she put it. The first few times had been pretty difficult for me, but then it seemed as if I actually developed a taste for the stuff, and that particular part of sex had become okay with me. Looking back now, I realize that the act of licking my own cum out of her pussy could very well be the source of my fantasy about doing the same with another man's. Sandie told me not too long ago that she always fantasized I was licking up her lover's cum at those times, too. I guess we were on the same wavelength long before I had any indication of that fact.

When I finally attempted to answer her question, I was still unable to be as honest and open as she was, and I equivocated by saying, "I don't know. It's something that seems to be in most of those stories, so other men must think it's okay."

She snuggled closer then, and asked in a soft voice, "Do you want to try it, or is it all just a fantasy?"

That question cut right to the heart of the matter, and again I couldn't bring myself to answer honestly. Again, I fumbled with my answer, saying, "I don't know. It's been something I've liked to think about for a long time. Do you want to try it?"

If I thought I could divert her by throwing her question back to her, then I was proved wrong, for she answered without hesitation, "I've been thinking about it for a long time, too. I think we should try it, if you'd really be able to handle it. Could you really and truly sit there and watch another man making love to me?"

By that time, she had been fondling my crotch for several minutes, and I'm sure my brain was sinking lower and lower as it approached my balls. Her hand felt so good, and I didn't want her to stop. I said softly, "I think I could. It'd have to be something you really wanted to do, though. I wouldn't want to think you were doing it just because of me."

She laughed softly before replying, "If I didn't want it to happen, it wouldn't. You can be sure of that." She then shifted gears by saying, "In nearly all those stories, the woman is in charge, and she makes her husband do those things. Is that the way you want it for us?"

Again, that cut to the chase, because in my fantasy it had always been Sandie who was in charge, and she "made" me do those things. Actually admitting to such a thing, right to her face, was proving very difficult for me. Finally I said, "I'd want it to be your decision. I could never force you to do something like that."

She chuckled then, and gave my now-erect cock a playful pinch, saying, "You're damned right you couldn't. If there's any forcing required, I'll be the one doing it. You can bet on that."

She gave me another playful squeeze and pinch, then stood while saying, "I'd better get back out to the kitchen to see how dinner is coming along. It'll be ready in half an hour, so don't be late." Without another word, she left the room and headed for the kitchen, leaving me sitting there in a befuddled state, my brain racing as it thought of the things she'd said.

As soon as she left, I hurried to look through the stories she'd found. Since she hadn't mentioned something that was the most important part of my absolute favorites, I was hopeful that she hadn't found them. Those were the ones that had an added element to the cuckolding, and they all involved the same theme.

That theme usually went something like this: Following the man's cuckolding, the woman's lover becomes jealous of her husband, and begins to insist that something be done to eliminate him as a rival. Though each story had a different path, the final solution always involved the husband losing something. Of course, what he lost was either his cock or his balls, or sometimes both.

The thought of my wife reading such stories, knowing they were arousing to me, caused me extreme embarrassment. To my great relief, those particular stories were not in the pile, which probably meant that she hadn't looked in the next drawer down, where they were hidden. Relieved that my secret was safe for the moment, I sat there and reflected on what we'd talked about.

It was unbelievable to me that we'd even had that conversation, let alone arrived at the conclusion we had. Anyhow, the conclusion I thought we'd reached, which was that she wanted to take a lover, fuck him while I watched, and then make me service both of them afterwards. It was literally more than I could handle all at once, and as I walked to the bathroom to prepare for dinner, I was in a fog.

________________

That she was prepared to take the bull by the horns, so to speak, was evident in our lovemaking that night. In the first place, it was odd for us to do such a thing on a Friday night. Our usual "schedule" was Saturday night, plus one other night during the week, depending on circumstances. That other night had come to be, by default I guess, Wednesday.

That night, after we had showered and climbed in bed, Sandie wasted no time in again bringing up the subject that had never left my mind since our conversation a few hours ago. She shocked me by saying, with no preliminaries, "I want you to sleep in the nude from now on. It'll make it easier to get you turned on when I come home with a job for you to do. You can start now by taking off your undershorts."

I had always slept in undershorts only, never having developed a taste for wearing pajamas. It was easier to follow her orders then, because she had been fondling my penis since getting under the covers. I felt a thrill in my chest as I slipped down my shorts, then tossed them over the side of the bed. To be told to do something sexual in nature had been my secret desire for a long time by then, and for that desire to suddenly be met was proving to be pretty arousing to me. Before I'd even settled once again, my semi-erect cock was at full staff.

Sandie placed one hand on it and began stroking lightly, getting me more turned on with each second. After awhile, she said, "I've been thinking about who my first lover will be. It's not something to take lightly. I'm sure there would be plenty of men who'd like to get in my pants, but it all comes down to safety. If I'm going to let a man fuck me bare, then I need to know it's safe to do so. Don't you agree?"

I have to admit that the subject of safe sex very rarely came up in the stories I read, and even less frequently in my fantasies. Even in my aroused state, I could understand that if the other man wore a condom, the main ingredient of my fantasy wouldn't be present when I licked my wife's pussy. That she had an answer ready was proved when she continued, "I've been thinking about how to get around that problem for quite awhile now, and I keep coming back to Jack. What do you think about him?"

Jack is our next door neighbor. He's older than either of us, by probably 15 years, which would put him about 50 years of age. He'd been a teacher all his life in one of our local high schools, and had taken early retirement to care for his wife when she developed Alzheimer's disease about five years ago. When it became necessary for her to live in a nursing home a couple years back, Jack continued to live alone in their home, and to visit his wife every day, even though she no longer recognized him. She had passed away a little over two months ago, and he had been even more alone after that. It seemed such an unusual choice that I was taken aback for a few moments, and I hesitated before asking quietly, "Why would you choose Jack? I thought you'd want a younger man."

She laughed quietly before answering, "Actually, I think Jack is an excellent choice. He hasn't had sex in two years, and then only with his wife. That's a pretty good assurance it'd be safe to fuck him without a rubber. He's close by, so it would be pretty convenient for him to come to our bed, or for me to go to his. Plus, he has a big dick."

I suppose in other circumstances, that would have caused me to laugh, but at that time it didn't. All I could think of to say was, "How do you know that?"

She replied, "When he was mowing our lawn one time last spring, I wanted to sunbathe on the patio out back. Jack was mowing the lawn then, and since you were gone and couldn't do it, I asked him to put the suntan lotion on my back. I lay down on my stomach, and unfastened the strap on my bikini top so he wouldn't get the oil on it. I happened to glance at him out of the corner of my eye, while he was rubbing the stuff on my back, and the shorts he was wearing had a great big bulge in them. Lots bigger than you've ever had."

I think I need to explain why Jack would be mowing our yard, and even moreso why he would be rubbing suntan lotion on my wife. My job pays pretty well, and Sandie had quit her job five years ago because we really didn't need her income. To keep herself from becoming bored at home, she'd learned to be a very good cook. When Jack's wife could no longer care for the home, Sandie had begun to take prepared food over there a couple of times a week, just as a neighborly gesture. Jack had returned the favor by mowing our lawn in the summer, and clearing the snow off the sidewalks in the winter. Both sides were pleased by the arrangement, and it had continued even after his wife had entered the nursing home, and then died. We all seemed to feel very friendly toward one another, and I suppose that's why Sandie didn't think it odd to let him rub the oil on her bare back.

From the tone of her voice, I could tell that she had already made her choice, and said, "It sounds like the matter's already settled." She didn't pause at all before answering, "Yes, it is. Since I'm going to be the one getting fucked, I get to choose who does it. Don't you think that's fair? I'll let you know when I'm ready for you to do your part."

That brought up a part of the matter that had been nagging at my mind ever since we'd had our conversation before dinner. I asked quietly, "When are you going to do it?"

She began to stroke my cock more firmly then, before answering, "When I'm ready. You'll know when I give you your first taste of cream pie." I was already close to cumming by then, and her reference to that subject caused my fantasy to spring full-blown in my brain. She knew the effect her actions, and her crude words, were having on me, and then issued her second order of the night, saying, "I'm going to show you how we'll be doing it from now on. Get on your back."

With no conscious thought, I rolled from my side to my back. In the dim light from the hallway, I saw her sit up in bed. She was already naked, that being the way she usually slept in the warmer months. I saw her straddle my midsection, and then felt her guiding my cock inside her pussy.

Given the way she had been arousing me with her hand and the subject matter, I knew my orgasm would happen very quickly. She obviously wanted it that way, for she said, "Remember how this feels. Once I start fucking Jack, you'll be out of luck. If his cock really is as big as it looked, I wouldn't be able to feel you anyway, so it'd be a waste of time. Go ahead and cum now so I can give you your first lesson in the proper way to eat cum out of my pussy."

She then began to raise and lower her body in quick strokes, and in less than a minute my back arched and my cock began to shoot its seed inside her. She continued to ride me until the spasms stopped, then lifted off and quickly moved to straddle my head.

That method of giving oral sex to her had been the most arousing part of my fantasy, although in our normal sexual relations, I would have scooted down the bed and buried my face between her legs. She always continued to lie on her back while I licked and sucked, and I couldn't think of any way to ask her to sit on my face, as I so much wanted her to do.

This time, she settled in place as if we'd been doing it this way for many years. As I began licking her sticky pussy, she started giving me instructions in the proper way to perform oral sex. In a low voice, she said, "This will be a much better way for you to eat me. When I'm on my back, lots of cum runs down my crack and you don't get it. This way, you should be able to get every drop."

"I want you to run your tongue up and down the slit first and get all the cum that's there. That's the part that'll run out first, so you need to get it right away. Get busy."

She then didn't say anything more until I'd completed that part, and I licked and swallowed as quickly as I could. There was not much of my cum in that part of her pussy, and in fact I was getting less this way than in our usual position.

At one point in my efforts, she said, "Stop right there. Do you feel that hard bump? Yes, that's it. That's my clit. Remember where it is, and how it feels. Now I'm going to move up just a little bit so my pussy hole is over your mouth. That's where most of the cum will be, so you should be able to get a tummyful."

She repositioned slightly, and I could feel her hard little bump rubbing against my nose. She again instructed me, saying, "Okay. Now I'm right over your mouth. Start sucking on my hole."

I did as she ordered, and was almost shocked at the amount of cum that entered my mouth. When I'd eaten her pussy before, I'd never had to deal with a volume of cum this large, and I could see what she meant when she said that lots of cum used to run down her crack, and I didn't get it. My first efforts literally filled my mouth to overflowing, and I closed it and began to swallow. As soon as the first load was on its way to my stomach, I went back for more. It had never occurred to me that a man in his mid-thirties could produce so much semen, for it certainly never looked like that much when I masturbated. Now, though, I could see the basis for the "quarts" of cum usually referred to in my stories. Even though I knew the quantity was nowhere near that amount, it certainly seemed that way to me.

By the time I'd had the last of the available jism, my cock was once again rock hard. (As I read over what I've just written, I know there's no way I can ever explain how very erotic it was to be ordered to lie there on my back while my wife mounted my face. To be given even more orders about the proper way to service her pussy just made me hotter. I guess you'll just have to use your imagination, because I can't explain it).

When Sandie sensed that I'd finished my housekeeping duties, she said, "Now, I'm going to show you another way you'll eat me sometimes." She then lifted up a slight amount, and rotated her body until she was facing my crotch. After settling in position again, she said, "This puts my clit right over your chin, which sometimes feels good. I want you to always remember to shave right before you come to bed. I don't want to be rubbing my clit on your stubble."

While she was giving me that lesson, she had begun to move her hard little bud back and forth over my chin, and I could tell by the change in her voice that it was arousing her. What was arousing me was the fact that my nose was literally buried in her backside, and in my lust-driven state, the aroma there was intoxicating.

Her breathing by then had become rapid, and when she again spoke, it was almost in a gasp. She panted, "When I tell you to push your tongue in, do it as hard as you can. Get ready." That order surprised me, since my tongue was already buried as deep in her pussy hole as I could get it. Whatever she wanted was what I'd do, though, and I tried to focus on waiting for her command, rather than on my throbbing cock.

Several things happened at once right then. The first was her explosive gasp, followed by her order, "Now! Do it!". At the same time as she did that, she moved farther down my body. I could feel one of her hands working in her pussy that was now projecting beyond my chin. The other hand had taken a firm grip on my sac, and seemed to be doing its level best to crush the contents.

The part that proved to be the most erotic of all, however, was completely unexpected. When she had moved her crotch, her anus was re-positioned over my mouth. When she ordered me to force my tongue into her as hard as I could, it sank into that opening, rather than her pussy.

I'm sure you think that's more revolting than exciting, and when I was in a normal state of mind, back then, I'd have agreed. However, at that time, I was just beginning to cum, and everything we were doing was very sexually charged. It was not a bit offensive that she had ordered me to stick my tongue up her butt. It simply added another dimension to an already erotic situation.

I won't bore you with further descriptions of our lovemaking sessions during the next two weeks, other than to say they were very much like the one I've written about above. What was odd about them was that they seemed to happen almost every night, and I'm sure we never missed two nights in a row during that time. By the end of that two weeks, Sandie actually complimented me on all I'd learned about eating cream pie, as she liked to call it. She told me I was ready for the real thing, but that she'd expect me to keep practicing until she brought it to me.

So that's what I did.



Chapter 2

The night Sandie gave me the compliment was a Thursday, as I recall. She had been making veiled references to being "almost ready" to make her move on Jack, and continued to do so. At no time did she ever say just when she was going to attempt to seduce our neighbor, just that it would be "soon." Given the way she had increased my anticipation every night, I knew it couldn't be soon enough for me.

The following Saturday seemed pretty normal in all ways. I trimmed our side of the hedgerow between our house and Jack's, and when he saw what I was doing, he got his trimmers and joined me. The conversation we had was difficult for me, since virtually the only thought that I had was about my wife in bed with him. I'm sure he thought I was very distracted, but he never said anything about it.

Sandie had been baking while I was working in the yard, and the delicious aroma just about knocked me out when I walked back in the house. It was by then about 6:00 in the evening, and she told me to go wash my hands, and dinner would be on the table when I got back.

We had dinner over with by an hour after I'd come in, and I sat expectantly waiting for her to serve the dessert she'd been baking. I was sure it was one of her famous pies, although I couldn't identify the type from just the smell.

To my disappointment, the dessert she served was nothing but a small dish of ice cream, but I consoled myself with the thought of maybe having some of the pie later, followed by another wonderful session in bed. I had come to very much look forward to our time there, and there were some days when I had an erection even when I was trying to work.

As soon as dessert was eaten, Sandie stood from the table. She said, "I'm going to go take a nice, long bath now. You can take care of the dishes." She then walked out of the room, leaving me to start clearing the table, and putting everything in the dishwasher. There was certainly nothing out of the ordinary about such a thing, since I quite often took care of those chores. It was just that she usually bathed immediately before we went to bed, so her doing so at that time of day was different.

I was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper when she came back from her bath. Her appearance just about took away my breath, and it was almost more than I could do to not drag her to the floor and beg her to let me give her pleasure.

She was wearing an older pair of very short shorts, ones that had fit her quite well a few years ago, but were now a size too small. Other than her sandals, her only other piece of clothing was a very narrow halter that covered about half of her lovely breasts, and was so thin that it showed off her nipples. It took no more than a glance to see that those two features were quite erect, and I found the sight very stimulating.

She was holding a round metal box that she often used to carry food over to the neighbors, and in answer to my unspoken question, she said, "I baked a pie for Jack, and thought I'd take it over there now. Guess what kind it is."

I was so distracted by her sexy appearance that I could barely answer her, but finally replied, "Is it coconut? That's what it smelled like."

She smiled then, saying, "No, honey, but that's close. It's a banana cream pie. I thought it was appropriate, since this way both of you will be having cream pie tonight. But I doubt that yours will taste like bananas."

With that she walked toward the door, leaving me almost dumbfounded. Her final words to me were, "Now you be a good little boy, and be in bed by 11:00. Bye." With that, she left the house, and I sat there with my brain racing.

Over and over I reviewed what she'd said, wondering if it meant she'd decided that the time had come for her to seduce Jack. When she returned, would she be carrying a little something extra, bringing it home to our bed, where she'd feed it to me?

I could think of nothing else all evening, and have no recollection at all of what I did while waiting for her. I'm sure that I tried to watch TV, but have no idea what was on. I may have tried to read something, but again can't recall doing so. What I do recall is fighting with my hand to keep it away from my crotch. The urge to masturbate was almost overwhelming, and it just about drove me crazy.

By 10:00, I was virtually out of my mind with curiosity about what was going on over there. I thought many times of sneaking through the hedge, and trying to peek in one of Jack's windows. More than anything else, the thing that prevented me from doing such a thing was the fear that Sandie would catch me. To have her angry with me was more than I could bear, and I vowed that I'd wait here for her, not matter how anxious I became.

I spent the last half hour before bedtime soaking in the bathtub. Even then, I could think of nothing else, even to the point that I actually feared washing my genitals, since that would probably put me over the edge. I wanted more than anything else to save my orgasm for Sandie, knowing that if I would jack off now, it'd take the edge off my lust, and I didn't want anything to do that.

A few minutes before 11:00, I climbed into bed, naked as ordered. I lay on my back so my hardon wouldn't rub on the sheet, and even threw off the top sheet to avoid that slight stimulation. I'd never seen the clock move so slow, and when I looked at the digital readout on the nightstand an hour after the previous glance, it tried to tell me that only a minute had passed.

A few minutes after 11:00, I heard the front door close, and my heart started to pound even more. I lay there in anticipation, and finally heard the top stairstep make its little creak as someone walked on it. My gaze was fixed on the doorway into the bedroom, and when I saw her dark form appear there, it was almost more than I could do to keep from crying out to her.

As she stepped into the bedroom, she placed her hands behind her back and untied the halter. She let it drop to the floor, and I wished with all my heart that the light were on so I could see her magnificent breasts. She had never stopped walking toward the bed, and by then had reached its side. I saw her hands drop to her side, and then could tell she was pushing down her shorts.

I couldn't contain myself any longer, and whispered in a voice made rough with emotion, "Did you do it?"

She didn't say a word, but just climbed into the bed on her knees. She swung one leg over my head, pulled something white from between her legs, and then whispered, in a voice as husky as my own, "See for yourself."

I couldn't even wait until she lowered her crotch to my mouth, but placed my hands on her hips and drew her downward. I knew then why she had so carefully trained me in the proper way to orally service her, for without those instructions, I would have failed to do it properly, in my frenzy.

My question was answered by the first swirling lick of my tongue. The taste buds there simply exploded with the sensation of tangy salt, and the musky scent of her pussy told me she had been having sex. The taste was different than my own, although not greatly so. The smell was also slightly different, although again, not greatly so.

What was very noticeably different, though, was the heat in her crotch, and the swollen condition of her pussy lips. When I ran my tongue over it, I could also tell that her clit was much larger than it'd ever been, at least in my experience. I was sure that all those clues were evidence of her arousal being at least as great as my own, and that in turn seemed to drive me to greater heights of excitement.

I tried to contain my raging impatience, and service her in the way I'd been trained to do. Even she must have been much more excited than usual, because after I'd made a couple of slow licks around her outer pussy, she whispered hoarsely, "Faster! Lick it faster, damn you!" That drove me to even greater heights of lust, and my tongue began to work as fast as my heart was beating.

I licked as fast as possible, bringing the treasures I found into my mouth, and then sending them to their rightful home in my stomach. Over and over I swallowed what I found, until there was no more to be had. She must have realized there was no more cum there for me, for she quickly moved forward a slight amount, placing her rock-hard clit over my nose and her delicious pussy hole over my mouth.

Her impassioned plea to, "Suck it! Now, God damn you!", hadn't even left her lips before my lips were fastened around her opening, and I was drawing in gobbet after gobbet of their mixed juices.

Her wordless cry then sprang from her throat, and I felt her thighs lock tightly around my head. Her crotch pressed against my face with so much force that I could no longer breathe, but that was completely unimportant to me. When she growled, more than said, "Eat it, damn you! Eat his cum out of me!", it was all that was needed to start my own so-long-delayed climax. I don't know if I'd ever shot my wad with nothing whatsoever touching my cock or balls, but that's exactly what happened at that moment.

I didn't care if I suffocated or drowned at that point, and both were possible. The tightness of her crotch to my face, and the overflowing mouthful of mixed cream, were just the way things were meant to be. I didn't need to die to go to Heaven, for I was already there.

There is no way for me to know if Sandie raised up, or my body simply reacted instinctively. Whatever, my next clear recollection is of my head being turned slightly to the side, and my lungs gasping for air. I was trying to breathe at the same time as I was trying to swallow the load in my mouth, and the end result was that I almost choked. It took several seconds for me to finally accomplish both goals, and by then Sandie was lying beside me, hugging me tightly.

As her breathing evened, she whispered in my ear, "Was it as good as you thought it would be?" The word "good" had no meaning in that context, and I struggled with putting into words what I had felt. Finally I answered, "I can't tell you how wonderful it was. I've been reading about it for so long, but what you just did to me is so far above the stories that there's just no comparison. It was the best thing that ever happened to me, by far."

We hugged again after I had rolled to my side to face her, and she said, "Feels like you're ready for more." She laughed softly then, and it took me a second or two to realize that she was feeling my erection pressing against her body. Until she had said that, I hadn't realized that I still had a hardon. It had happened before, of course, but that had been in my younger days. That it was happening now simply demonstrated how very arousing this entire evening had been.

She then asked the simple question that I was dying to ask, but couldn't bring myself to put into words. She asked quietly, "Do you want to hear about it?" I knew immediately what she meant, and replied simply, "Please."

She began, "Well, I took the pie over to Jack, as you know. When he answered the door, and saw me standing there dressed like that, his poor eyes just about popped out of his head. He didn't say anything, so I finally asked him if I could come in. He apologized for being so distracted, then held the door open while I walked in."

"I told him I'd take the pie to the kitchen, as was my usual habit, and started walking that way. He was right behind me, so I tried to wiggle my butt even more than usual, and it must have worked, because he had to clear his throat a couple of times before he could make any sort of conversation at all."

"When we got to the kitchen, I offered to serve him a slice of 'my' pie, and he got even more flustered. Finally he got out a plate, asking me if I wanted to have one also. I said we'd just eaten dinner, so was full up. I then cut a piece and put it on his plate. He was sitting at the kitchen table then, and I stood leaning against the countertop, a couple of feet away from him. This afternoon, I'd stood in front of our big mirror with the shorts on, and practiced different ways of standing until I found the one that would give a tiny peek at my cunt hair."

"I could tell he was trying his best to not look at my crotch, but just couldn't help himself. After all those years of no pussy, the poor man had to be desperate, and there was no way he could avoid looking at what I was displaying for him."

"When he finished his dessert, I suggested he put the plate in the sink, knowing that would mean he'd have to stand up. It was almost comical the way he tried to come up with excuses so he wouldn't have to do that, but finally he did it."

"As I'd hoped, his cock was hard. He was wearing a pair of old lightweight slacks, and the tent in them was absolutely huge. He tried to hold the plate in front of his crotch, and ended up dropping it on the floor. Luckily it was plastic, so it didn't break. Anyway, I got down to pick it up, which put my head just a few inches from his crotch. I think he was frozen in embarrassment by then, because he didn't even try to move away."

"When I put the plate back on the table, I 'accidentally' brushed his erection with one hand, then said I was sorry. He put his hands in front of his crotch, but seemed to be too embarrassed to say anything. When I put my hands over his, and asked if I'd hurt him there, the expression on his face was almost comical."

"That's when I stood up and kissed him. It took him a few seconds to respond, but when he did he really got into it. It was pretty obvious it'd been a long time for him, and he was very enthusiastic. I started rubbing my body against his, and that really set him off."

"I don't even remember walking to the bedroom with him, but somehow that's where we were. We had been kissing and rubbing all the way, and when we fell on the bed, we kept doing it. When I told him my halter was too tight, and I couldn't breathe, he untied it for me. It fell off, and he seemed to have eyes for nothing other than my tits. I pulled his head down to them, and he really went crazy. God, I've never had better titty love. He must absolutely adore boobs, because he spent a long time kissing, licking, sucking, and even biting them."

"He didn't seem to know how to get my shorts off, or maybe he didn't remember how to. Whatever, I finally had to lift up my butt and tell him to pull them down. I thought he'd pop a gasket when he did that, and his eyes were riveted to my crotch. My butt was still up in the air, and I said, 'Don't stop now.' His hands were actually shaking when he pulled down my panties."

"I spread my legs then, and took one of his hands and put it between them. He seemed to remember what to do, and started giving me a really good fingering. I pulled his head back to my tits then, and let him work on both ends. It felt really good."

"I don't have any idea how long we did that, but it was definitely getting darker outside. I decided it was time to get him undressed too, and unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. His pants and undershorts were next, and I have to tell you the size of the wet spot he left in his underwear made me think for a minute that he'd already climaxed. His cock was still hard as a rock, so I figured he probably hadn't."

"Speaking of his cock, I can tell you it was bigger than I'd hoped. The bulge I saw in the back yard was about half the size of the real thing. He has to be twice as big as you."

"There was no way for me to resist what needed to be done, so I lay down on my back and pulled him on top of me. I guided his monster in me, and then just lay back and let him do the rest. I could tell he was really anxious, but he still took his time. If he'd just have rammed it in me, I'd probably have died."

"I lost my cherry when I was 15, and don't really remember much about it, other than it hurt and felt good at the same time. Now I know what it feels like to lose it again. His first few strokes got him in as far as you've ever been, and after that it was all unexplored territory. As far as I'm concerned, I've been a virgin all my life until tonight. Now I know what it feels like to be fucked by a real cock. It was great."

"You know how you always cum just a few seconds after you put you pecker in me? Well, Jack's not like that. He must have been almost out of his head with excitement, but he still had the willpower to control himself. He fucked me real slow for a long time, and then when he could tell I was just about ready to cum, he speeded up his strokes. God, he was good!"

"He seemed to know just when my orgasm started, because he rammed that pole in me as deep as he could and held it there. It hurt like Hell, but it felt so good that I thought I'd die. I know he climaxed then, but to tell the truth, I never knew just when he did it. I was so wrapped up in my own orgasm, that nothing else mattered."

"Finally I came back from wherever I'd been, and realized he was starting to pump me again. God, that man was horny! My cunt was sore in places I never even knew I had. I thought about asking him to stop, but about then it started to feel good again, so I didn't. He kept humping away, and I swear to God his cock actually got bigger. I don't know how long it took that second time, but when he finally got his rocks off again, I thought he'd had a heart attack."

"I didn't have another orgasm the second time, but that was okay. It just felt so good to have that big dick inside me that I didn't need to cum again to enjoy it. It really and truly was the best fucking I've ever had. So far, at least. Maybe the next one will be even better."

"After he rolled off me, I wadded up my panties and jammed them in my pussy to hold his two loads in there. I think I could actually feel his cum squishing around in me when I moved. I didn't know a man could hold so much cum in his balls, even ones as big as Jack's. Of course, I guess you already know how much there was, don't you?"

"Anyway, I told him I had to get home right away, and got dressed. We kissed goodbye and I headed for the door. You know what was really funny about it? He actually thanked me. It may sound kind of funny, but I really liked that."

"I hurried home just as fast as I could, because I could feel his cum leaking out of my pussy. You know the rest."

I did know the rest, and my mind flashed those memories past my eyes time after time. There is no way to describe how very exciting it was to hear Sandie tell me how she had seduced our neighbor, and then rushed home to me so I could clean her. No story I'd ever read, or ever would, could compare with the real thing. Again and again I told her how very much I loved her, and how precious she was to me.

Her only reply to that was to place one hand on my shoulder and push me over on my back. She said simply, "Prove it," and then again straddled my head.

This time she was facing my crotch, and I knew what was expected of me. After paying homage to her pussy once again, I felt her move down my face as she'd done almost every night for the past two weeks. Her clit, which was once again hard as she recalled the fucking Jack had given her, pressed against my clean-shaven chin. Her pussy hole was over my mouth, and my tongue was buried as deeply in it as possible. Her puckered opening was over my nose, and I could feel her spread her cheeks in an attempt to push it into her.

She then lowered her hands to my crotch, and began to once again do what she had trained me to enjoy over the past several days. While one of her hands squeezed my balls, the other pinched every square inch of my cock. She continued to do that until her breathing once again became ragged.

At that time, she moved even farther down and brought one hand to her now-exposed clit, and began to frig it furiously. Her movement had centered her asshole over my mouth, and I did my duty by pushing my tongue as deeply inside her as possible.

As we both approached our second orgasms in the past hour, she began to concentrate on punishing my penis with the one hand that remained there. I had learned to love that sort of attention, and it only made me hotter. When at last she gasped to signal her orgasm, I lifted my butt off the bed to force my cock against her punishing hand, hoping that would strengthen her efforts.

It did. She pinched the tender skin right under the head, and began to pull it straight up with all her strength. At the same time, she said in a husky whisper, "God, I wish you could make it grow as big as Jack's." That's when my cum began to spurt, and I literally sprained my tongue trying to force it even deeper inside her.

Following her second orgasm in one hour, and her third in a very short space of time, Sandie was obviously exhausted. She slumped forward on her outstretched arms, and waited as she returned to reality. After almost two minutes in that position, she moved off and lay beside me, flat on her stomach. When her breathing evened, she mumbled, "Good night."

I was certain she had already fallen asleep, but I returned her parting sentiment by saying, "Good night. I love you very much. Thank you for what you did today." She made no indication she'd heard me, but I still felt better for having said it. Her mention of Jack having said "thank you" as she left told me that it was important to her, and I made a mental note to myself to try to be more courteous to her in the future. She was the most important person in the world to me, and the least I could do was to tell her so by my words and actions. With that resolution seated firmly in my brain, I joined her in contented sleep.



Chapter 3

If I had expected my wife to visit her next-door lover every night, then return to our bed for me to service her, I was disappointed. She had told me early on that if we were going to make this attempt to realize my long-held fantasy, then she would be the one in charge. That she expected me to honor the agreement was apparent the next day.

I had awakened first, and lay there for a few minutes, looking at her lovely face. My love for her almost overwhelmed me then, and it was almost more than I could do to not take her in my arms and tell her how very special she is to me. The only thing that stopped me from doing so was the simple fact that I knew she was not a "morning person," and truly wanted nothing to do with me, or anyone else, before she'd had time to awaken on her own, and drink at least one cup of coffee.

For that reason, I quietly got out of bed and went to the bathroom to do all those things that are necessary to start the day. It was a Sunday, so I was at loose ends, and spent the next couple of hours doing small chores and reading the Sunday newspaper. When I heard Sandie come down the stair at mid-morning, I rushed to the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee for her, and then brought it to her in the sitting room, where we usually chatted on those weekend mornings.

We greeted each other with a hug, which was normal in all ways, and we sat in our recliner chairs and shared the newspaper and talked idly. After about half an hour, she stopped reading and seemed to visibly shift gears. When she began speaking, I could tell we were about to have a serious discussion.

She began, "I don't ever recall having a more restful night's sleep." She chuckled softly before continuing, "Of course, the three orgasms didn't hurt." That seemed to recall something else, and she chuckled again before resuming. "Speaking of hurting, it's for damn sure my pussy never felt like this. I think Jack was inside me twice as far as you ever were, and I can feel it today."

She continued in a reflective tone, almost as if listening to an inner voice, "I guess it's not so much a hurt or ache as it is just an awareness of something new. There's no way to tell a man how such a thing feels, but it's certainly different. The more I think about it, the better it feels, in an odd way. If I concentrate I can almost feel his cock forcing its way up there. I wonder if that's the way I felt the day after my cherry was busted."

Since I had nothing to contribute to what she was saying, I sat looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue. After a few moments, she went on, "I think we really need to take the time to give some serious thought about what we're doing here. Given the wonderful way I feel after having been fucked only two times by Jack, and the way you seemed to be more excited than ever before in your life when you were sucking his cum out of me, I think the whole situation could become pretty addicting. Maybe we should think long and hard about it before we go any further."

Her comment seemed to be humorous to her, and she paused to laughed. Seeing that I had failed to catch the joke, she stopped laughing long enough to say, "Long and hard. That's what Jack was." Her laughter then pealed forth again, and I joined in.

As soon as we quieted, I asked, "Are you saying you don't want to do it ever again? Is that what you mean?"

She reflected on that for awhile, then replied, "No. Actually, it's just the opposite. I would really like to go over there right now and make him fuck me all day. It was something pretty special to have a cock like that inside me, and I'd have it there all the time, if I could."

She paused, as if trying to find the right way to say what she wanted, then continued, "That's what I'm trying to say, I guess. This sort of thing could become a habit with me, if we allow it to go on. I'm just saying that what Jack did to me was really good, probably the best sex I've ever had. And what came after wasn't bad either. When I climbed in bed and sat down on your mouth, the thrill that passed through my crotch was really intense. There's just something about feeding another man's cum to my husband that strikes a nerve, I guess."

"When I was sitting on you last night, some of the things I thought about were almost frightening. Do you remember what I did to your little dick when I had that second orgasm?" She paused long enough for me to nod my head as I recalled the pain she'd given me by pinching and stretching the skin under my cock head, then went on, "If you knew what I was thinking about then, you'd be scared to death. Or at least, you should be."

Again she stopped to reflect, then continued, "To make a long story short, I can say that if we decide to go on with this stuff, then we're going to get deeper and deeper into it. You can use your imagination about what that'll mean to both of us. I really think we need to decide now what we're going to do."

She stopped then, and sat waiting expectantly for me to say something. As I reviewed what she had said, I realized that my cock was beginning to stir. It had also been tired from the workout it'd had last night, and this was the first time it had made its presence felt. I smiled as the thought crossed my mind that it had already voted, and then said, "The only thing I can say is that last night was the most exciting thing we've ever done. When I was waiting for you to come home, I almost went out of my mind with anticipation of what you'd be bringing for me, and what we'd do when you climbed in bed with me. Just thinking about it now is getting me excited all over again. I guess if I had to vote right now, I'd say we shouldn't stop. The final choice is up to you, though, as you said a couple of weeks ago. Nothing has changed that, and it's still your decision."

She started nodding her head slowly even before I had finished speaking, and as I did she said with no hesitation, "It's settled then. I knew my decision the moment Jack's cock entered me. I want to fuck him every chance I get. And since I now know exactly how exciting it is to feed his cum to you, I want to do that just as often also. I just wanted to give you one last chance to have your say."

She laughed again, then said, "After this, you won't have any say at all, since your mouth will have better things to do." I joined her in laughter then, even though what I was feeling was closer to arousal than mirth. It was the decision I had wanted to make all along, but in the final analysis, it was hers alone to make, and now that she had done so, our future seemed very exciting to me. Maybe if I had known then what I know now, my vote would have been radically different. However, as I recall the excitement and the arousal I was feeling then, I know no other decision was possible.

____________________

Sandie had announced her decision, following that conversation, that we would not be having sex until next Saturday. She said it was better for her to wait that long for her "batteries to recharge," and so that's the way it would be. Since I had already given her the power to make those decisions, I had no choice but to comply. There was one other part to that decision, and it was one that proved to be much more difficult for me to observe. She said, "You'd better understand that 'no sex' means just that. I want you to promise me you won't play with yourself in the meantime. Can you do that?" Right then, I was sure such a thing wouldn't be difficult to do, although it didn't turn out that way in practice.

We spent the following week in our usual and accustomed ways, with me working and her doing things around the house plus taking care of her volunteer activities in the community. At no time did she give any indication of being horny, or of even thinking about what we'd done, and planned to do even more of in the future. Anyone who knew us would have noticed nothing unusual. I did notice one change though, and it was in the way Jack greeted me when we met across the hedgerow. At first, he seemed to be almost shy, but by a couple of days later, he seemed to be treating me more as one of his students. It's difficult to give any examples of that change, but that's just the impression I had. He seemed to think he was "in charge" somehow, and that I should defer to him.

By the time Saturday arrived, I was constantly horny. During the times when we'd had sex twice a week, I usually masturbated on a daily basis, most often in the shower at night. When I had been denied that outlet, plus sex with Sandie, my balls began to drive me crazy with their demand for relief. I remember having almost a perpetual erection during the entire day, and Sandie commented about it several times, usually making a veiled reference to needing to "do something about that problem." I hoped that meant she'd be visiting Jack that night, then returning to our bed for another exciting session.

To my surprise, and then my instant arousal, about two hours before our usual dinner time, she announced that we'd be having a guest that night. Of course, I immediately asked if it would be Jack, but she just told me to be patient, and all my questions would be answered before much longer. That intervening time was probably the longest in my life, and I caught myself several times glancing out the front window to see if anyone was approaching the door.

About one hour before dinner, Sandie told me come upstairs with her. When we got there, she ordered me to fill the bathtub with water and bath salts, and after I'd done so, she got in and gave me orders to bathe her.

Doing so only served to further increase the excitement I was feeling, because it seemed to confirm my suspicions that her lover was to join us that night. As I considered all that was implied by that situation, I was torn between excitement and concern about my true feelings on the matter. It was one thing to read about some anonymous man watching his wife and lover, and then servicing them afterwards. It was entirely another to be faced with the realization that the fantasy was about to be made real. Again and again I asked myself if I really could do such a thing, and every time I arrived at the same answer: I don't know.

When she was ready to get out of the tub, I assisted her and then began to towel her dry as ordered. She told me to spend extra time on her breasts and between her legs, and I did so, further increasing my excitement to the point I feared my cock would soon begin to spurt even with no assistance from me.

While I had been drawing her bath, Sandie had been laying out the clothes she wanted to wear that night. As we walked into the bedroom, I saw them on the bed, and knew at that moment that all my hopes, and maybe my fears, would soon be realized.

There were only three garments laying there. The first was a pair of white panties; the second was the same pair of short shorts she'd worn one week ago; the third was the skimpy halter. My hands were trembling as I put the clothes on her, for it went without saying that I was preparing my wife for her lover, and that act was very, very erotic to me.

When we returned to the downstairs, I was directed to place the dinnerware on the table, and used that mundane activity to distract my thoughts, and hopefully to quiet my raging hardon. It seemed to work, for by the time the doorbell rang promptly at 7:00, my cock was only semi-erect.

It was no surprise to me that Jack was standing on our front porch when I opened the door. We exchanged greetings, he easily and I with difficulty. Luckily he had brought a bottle of wine, so I had an excuse to take it to the kitchen, leaving him sitting in the front room.

Sandie was busy with last-minute preparations, and seemed to be finishing up as I entered. When I told her Jack had arrived, she smiled and gave me a small hug, then said, "I'm going to go talk to him. When you get this stuff on the table, call us." With that she left the kitchen, leaving me to figure out how to serve a meal, which never before had been my responsibility. It seemed that many changes had been made in our lives, and this was just one more.

I did as well as I could in transferring the food to serving dishes, and then carrying them to the dining room table. When everything seemed to be ready, I walked to the front room to call them, and that's when the changes that had been made hit me solidly between the eyes.

Jack was sitting in the recliner that I used, and he was not alone there. Sandie was sitting on his lap, and as I walked into the room, they were kissing. I watched in silence for what seemed an eternity, but couldn't have been more than a few seconds. When they broke the kiss, Sandie noticed me standing there and said, "Oh, hi honey. Is dinner ready? We're starved." I seemed to be unable to talk, and just mutely nodded my head. That was the signal for them to get out of the chair and accompany me to the dining room, acting for all the world as if everything were as normal as could be.

The dinner was certainly uneventful, and even the conversation seemed to flow easily. Jack had a large reservoir of stories about his teaching days, and he never tired of telling us about them. Before I realized it, the meal was finished. Sandie then told me to clear the table, and she'd take care of the dessert.

I hurried to do her bidding, and was pleasantly surprised when Jack offered to help me. We continued to converse on very ordinary subjects, and it was difficult for me to reconcile what was happening with what I expected to happen.

The table was soon cleared, and just as Jack and I re-seated ourselves, Sandie entered carrying the dessert tray. She placed a slice of pie in front of Jack, another at her chair, and a small dish of ice cream before me. When I looked questioningly at her, she said with a loving smile on her face, "Don't worry, honey. You'll be having your cream pie later."

I heard a muffled snort from Jack's direction, and when I looked at him, could see he was trying to hide his reaction to my wife's comment, but wasn't doing a very good job of it. As soon as Sandie was once again seated, he began again on his stories, and soon the two of them were chatting easily. As for me, I nibbled at my ice cream in silence, my head spinning as I considered what she'd said. From Jack's reaction, it was pretty clear that he knew what to expect from this night, and that meant that Sandie had been talking to him during the week, telling him about my part in her love affair. Even with the cooling effect of the ice cream, I knew my face was burning bright red with embarrassment.

When we finished the desserts, I once again cleared the table. Sandie told me to bring the wine bottle and some glasses to the front room, and I hurried to the kitchen to do that. As before, when I entered the front room, Jack was sitting in my chair, and my wife was on his lap. Also as before, they were kissing, but this time the increased level of passion was plain to see.

I opened the wine bottle and poured our drinks, then after I'd handed two glasses to them, I took mine to the couch. Sandie took that moment to say, "God, Jack! There's something that feels like a rock in your lap. Let me move it out of the way so it doesn't poke me." She then sat on the upholstered arm of the recliner, placed her wine glass on the side table, and quite nonchalantly pushed her hand down the front of his trousers.

As I watched as if hypnotized, her hand moved about in his pants. It was easy to see that he had an erection, and she was stroking it. Finally she said that it should be better now, and once again settled into place on his lap. During the short space of time between her removing her hand, and then resuming her place, I could see the bulge in his trousers. I knew then that my wife hadn't been teasing me about the si