Pimping Emily Part One
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Pimping Emily: Part Two free porn video
When Phil woke up, Emily was asleep beside him. She looked beautiful and peaceful in her flower print nightie. He looked at her for a moment before everything flooded back from the day before. He realized he was naked and lying in a dried patch of his own cum. How could he have masturbated and had an orgasm thinking about her and that guy Bob? Imagining a scene he hadn’t witnessed? As he lay there thinking this, and looking at her, he felt his cock stiffen once again.
Why was he so excited? The idea flashed through his mind that he was aroused by being in bed with a stranger, a different woman, just as beautiful as his wife Emily but bolder, sexier, willing to break the rules. He remembered again how they had fucked the previous afternoon, before he found out about what she had done with Bob. Clearly the time with that other man had pleased and excited her, so that she was ready to ride his cock frantically when he came through the door.
Then he thought: maybe she would have ridden anyone’s cock, she was so hot, so ready.
By now he was fully erect and couldn’t help stroking his member a couple of times. He pulled the sheet down, off of Emily and then pulled her nightie up, exposing her hairless pussy. What beautiful, taut thighs! It was hard not to think, too, about the big, strange cock that had pushed its way past those lips, deep into her. Had they used a condom, at least?
Phil leaned forward and kissed Emily’s labia. He knew that this would wake her up, but he couldn’t help himself. When his lips met hers, her body quivered, but she didn’t say anything. With his fingers, he parted the outer lips and ran the tip of his tongue up one side and down the other, exploring the folds that the stranger’s cock had rubbed and stimulated. As he did this, she became moister. After circling around inside for a while, he kissed her clitoris, which was beginning to rise. He sucked it between his lips and squeezed slightly. Meanwhile, he had reached back to hold his stiffening rod.
Emily now opened her eyes and looked down at what he was doing.
“My God, Phil, this isn’t like you, first thing in the morning! What’s got into you?”
He stopped sucking and looked her in the face. His expression told everything. He was glaring at her with anger and lust.
“The question is, who got into you? But you don’t have to answer. I know. His name is Bob!”
She didn’t even look surprised. “So, what are you going to do about it?”
“I’m going to fuck you like the whore you are!”
He pushed her legs further apart, and drove the purple head of his cock right between her lips.
Emily’s clit was now engorged. She closed her eyes and lay back into the pillow. Her mouth opened slightly and her breathing was faster.
“Is this the way he did it? With him on top? Or did you ride him?”
“We did everything,” she answered. “But the second time it was doggy style. That was the best.”
The second time? Phil was so angry he was trembling. The veins in his neck were swollen and it was an effort for him to spit out his words.
“You whore! You want to be fucked from behind, you’ll get it!”
He pulled out, grabbed Emily by the hips, and flipped her over as if she were simply a rag doll. Then he tugged her hips upwards so that she was on her knees and he drilled his cock between her swollen dark red lips.
Emily was ecstatic. Phil’s usual style was lackadaisical, with minimal energy. Now he was not making love. He was fucking. She loved the results and she let him know it.
“Yeah, fuck me! Finally you got the idea! This is what I need! Fuck me like your whore. Fuck me like everybody’s whore!”
The encouragement worked. He was beyond excited. This wasn’t his wife Emily he was screwing, it was someone else, someone new—a dirty, nasty slut who had kept herself hidden for these three years they’d been together.
Emily had reached her right hand back to push her hand into her crotch so that she could rub her clit. For several minutes there were only the sound of panting, the slapping sound of Phil’s thighs and balls bouncing off of Emily’s cheeks, and the squishy noises of his cock sliding in an out.
Several times Phil felt the convulsive waves of Emily’s orgasms as her body stiffened up and then relaxed again. Finally, with a huge groan, he shot several spurts of cum into her vagina.
Then he collapsed on the bed next to her and closed his eyes.
They panted for a few moments. Then Phil said, “Did you at least use condoms?”
Emily laughed. “Of course not. This wasn’t planned. Next time I’ll be prepared.”
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then he sprang up on his elbow and looked at her with horror.
“The next time! The next FUCKING time? What are you talking about?”
“Look, honey, don’t get all excited. Nothing’s set up yet. I’m just saying that I should be prepared, that’s all. It could happen again. Besides, you lost nothing at all. I even changed the sheets, as I guess you noticed. What you got is air conditioning and a couple of really hot fucks.”
It was quiet for a while. Phil digested what she said. He wasn’t expecting this. He thought she might cry and beg for his forgiveness. He didn’t know what to say.
“But that was prostitution! You can’t deny that. You provided sex for money, for $400, to be precise.”
“It wasn’t in cash. It was barter. It’s no different from being married, you know. Women provide sex and men bring home their paycheck, right? That’s the tradition.”
She continued, “Besides, I’m subsidizing your public-interest career. If you had a corporate law job, we’d have plenty of money for air conditioning, fancy new cars, and all those things. So Bob and I helped you out. Please note that you slept in the cool air that he provided, thanks to my bargaining.”
Phil was nonplussed. He just lay there for a while, pondering the situation. Meanwhile, since it was Saturday morning and they were for once in no hurry, Emily decided she wanted more.
“Call me a whore again! That was fun. It was the first time ever—not even Bob called me a whore.”
The sheets were pulled down, and Emily could see that what she said had had an effect. Her husband’s wet half-deflated member perked up.
“You know what Bob said? He told me that his ex-wife used to work in a sex shop, and on her breaks, when she didn’t have to stay at the cash register, she would go back to the booths and go into an empty one next to one that was being used and make her mouth available for blow jobs. So she had a lot of practice and was really good at it. But he said that I was even better!”
Now Phil’s cock was almost fully erect, but the expression on his face looked like one of sheer pain.
“Don’t look so miserable, baby! Just let me work my magic.”
Emily bent over Phil and took his rigid penis in both hands. It was already well lubed with her juices and his own cum, so she stroked up and down several times, then gave each of his balls a few little licks with the tip of her tongue.
“You and Bob are about the same size, but his cock stands out more because he’s shaved away all his pubic hair. It’s funny that until yesterday I didn’t have much basis for comparison.”
A little tear fell sideways and down from the corner of Phil’s left eye, then another.
Now Emily was circling his purple cockhead with her tongue. Phil’s abdomen tightened and his pelvis thrust his cock upwards, then let it fall back down. He could hear little licking noises, but his eyes were closed. In his head he pictured Emily doing this to Bob’s hair-free erection and the emotional pain mingled bizarrely with the intense physical pleasure. Phil began to think he was going insane.
Emily paused and lay down on Phil’s left.
“Come on, baby. Roll over and slide it in from behind. I don’t have to get on my knees for you to do that. You can just lie behind me.”
Phil really wanted to fuck her. His mouth was dry and he felt as if there were an electric current running through his body, somehow converging on his prick. He rolled over and stuck his erection into her pussy. Emily groaned with pleasure.
“Mmmm! Nice!”
She took his right hand in hers and moved it down into her crotch. With her fingers, she took his middle ones, and rubbed their tips in circles against her clit.
“Mmmm…perfect. Now just say ‘whore’ again and again!”
Phil had no difficulty saying that. He said it again and again and again—“God, what a filthy cheating whore you are! What a whore!”--, but it became more and more muffled as his tears flowed freely. He came, suddenly, with a sob.
Later, after they dozed off for a while, he got up and made coffee and put out the muffins from Kaminer’s Bakery on the table. Emily came out to the kitchen, rosy and clean from her shower, with her wet brown locks all tousled. She looked so innocent and wholesome!
At this point it seemed to Phil that there was nothing more to say for now. Every accusation and objection and even insult just rolled off of Emily or, perversely, excited her.
“You know, the thunderstorms cooled things off enough so that we could enjoy the outdoors. Let’s head to Laurel Creek. I’ve heard it’s nice.”
So after breakfast Emily packed a picnic lunch and they headed to the nature preserve. Loading the lunch in the car would have been easier if they could have pulled Phil’s car up to the kitchen door, but the driveway was a disaster. Not only was it impassable, but it channeled rainwater right into their basement, which was an unusable fungusy hole.
During the afternoon, Phil found himself thinking that he had just had a really, really vivid bad dream. Emily was sweet to him, snuggled up to him, kissed him on the neck, rubbed against him like a kitten. She couldn’t possibly have had sex with a stranger the day before, just to get the AC fixed.
But the idea haunted him. And he realized that Emily hadn’t done it just for the AC. She had done it for the sex. For the cock—and for the tongue in her mouth and the fingers probing her private parts. Private? Could he still call them “private parts”?
They stopped and bought some hamburger meat and some hot dogs and some summer salads so that they could make a quick meal when they got home. Phil even found a couple of bottles of really cheap read wine in Trader Joe’s.
Feeling frisky when they got home, Emily changed while Phil grilled. She put on a pair of opaque black leggings with no panties underneath and just pulled on a sleeveless t-shirt, one just like the one that had such a fabulous impact on Bob. She jiggled her way out to Phil on the deck and handed him a glass of wine.
He was looking her over just the way Bob had the day before. Men! They are so simple in some ways! So interchangeable!
Just then, the doorbell rang.
“I’ll see who it is,” said Emily. “Maybe those Jehovah’s Witnesses came back. No one else would show up at this hour.”
As he flipped the burgers, Phil heard a loud male voice at the door and Emily’s laughter. The screen door banged.
“Phil, guess who’s here! It’s Bob! The hero who saved our AC!”
A large bald man in Bermuda shorts and flip-flops came out onto the deck. The muscle shirt showed off both tattoos and very buff arms.
“Hey! You’re the lucky guy! You’ve got the hottest wife in Georgia, man, and that’s no bullshit!”
Before Phil could think of what else to do, he was shaking hands with Bob, who was holding a large brown paper bag under his left arm.
“Brought you two some stuff.”
Bob put the bag down on the metal outdoor table and took out a large bottle of red wine and then a carefully wrapped gift box that he handed to Emily. Finally, with a sly and for the first time a kind of hesitant look, he fished out a business envelope that seemed fully stuffed.
“I don’t know if y’all partake, but this here is really some of the finest. A buddy of mine grows it out on his gramma’s farm. It packs a wallop. And it’s totally organic.”
He held the envelope out toward Phil, who put down the spatula to open it. The smell of herb filled the summer air.
Emily, holding Bob’s present to her, said, “Bob, you shouldn’t have…After all you did for us yesterday….”
Phil felt a little sick when he thought of what Bob had done the day before. Meanwhile, Emily tore off the wrapping paper, which had an odd imitation-leather design, opened the box, and pulled out a series of leather and metal objects. They looked like little pieces of belt, with shiny pointed metal studs and metal buckles.
“I hope you like them,” said Bob. “I wanted to get you something I was pretty sure you wouldn’t have. You’re a spunky little lady, and I figure that now and then your husband wishes he could restrain you a tad.” Bob looked at Phil with a look of male complicity.
Phil just looked blank.
Emily sorted the objects out. One was bigger than the others, and she held it up to her neck.
“It’s fabulous! I’ve never had anything like this before! I’ve only seen them in pictures—very sexy pictures. Look Phil, it’s a collar and cuffs for BDSM games.”
She held the collar up to her neck, and Bob went behind her to help buckle it on. Phil, however, couldn’t stand the thought of Bob handling his wife. He put down the spatula, and said to Bob, “Bob, why don’t you keep an eye on the burgers and dogs.”
Bob came over to the grill, saying, “I am a man who likes his meat!” Then, thinking better of it, he said, “Maybe that wasn’t in the best taste. Excuse me! I don’t have no lawyer’s gift for the gab.”
Phil stood behind Emily and adjusted the buckle. The collar was about three inches wide, black, lined with felt, and obviously good quality. The smell of the new leather mingled with the fresh marijuana and the sweet meaty smell of the grill. Then there was the intrusive scent of Bob’s aftershave…
Emily stood very still and upright. Once the collar was on, her husband attached the cuffs on her wrists. There was one more pair, for her ankles. He kneeled down and put them around her fine ankles.
“That feels fabulous!” said Emily. “So perverse! It makes me tingle with naughty ideas of what the two of you men are going to do to me!” She laughed and ran indoors to look at herself in a mirror.
“Chow time!” shouted Bob, though there was no need to shout, really.
Phil realized that Bob had just invited himself to dinner, and probably more. Emily came back out, flushed with pleasure and excitement. She threw her arms around Bob, pressing her breasts against his t-shirt, and gave him a big wet kiss.
“Thanks, big boy! You know how to handle a girl, don’t you?”
“They’re sturdy, good quality. They come from the sex shop where Jolene used to work.”
He accepted the glass of red wine that Emily held out for him. The three of them sat down to the outdoor table and Phil served the meat while Emily spooned out the Cole slaw and the potato salad. Phil poured himself another glass and realized they’d already finished one of the bottles. Fortunately Bob had brought a third, larger, one.
Once again Phil had that strange, surreal feeling, as if this was all a dream. He was sitting at the table, eating and drinking with the man who had just possibly inseminated his wife while they fucked the day before.
“Great burgers, chef!” said Bob. “I think this is where I’m going to be eating on Saturdays from now on.”
“You’re always welcome, Bob,” said Emily, letting a hand linger on his arm.
Most of the conversation, while they ate, consisted of Bob’s stories about the hilarious adventures of his ex.
“Note that I call her my ‘ex’. That’s minus an ‘s’. We didn’t have much any more after she put on sixty pounds, all in her hips. I like a nice slim little woman with a tight ass, like yours, Phil.”
Phil kept looking for some triumphant smirk on Bob’s part, some put-down from the man who had fucked his wife. But he could detect nothing but cheerful camaraderie, man-to-man sharing of the good things in life. He finally began to think that Bob just had a completely different value structure, one where possessiveness and competition were absent.
Bob and Emily were sitting close to one another at the table, opposite Phil, who was near the grill, from which he served more helpings of burgers and franks, especially to Bob, whose more than six-foot frame could absorb lots of protein. Bob was admiring Emily in her new leatherwear and said, “You know, it’s really not supposed to be worn with clothes. Let’s see what you lot like with your shirt off.”
Emily obligingly turned and raised her arms so that Bob could pull off her t-shirt, but then Bob looked at Phil and said, “You being the husband should probably have the honors.”
Appreciating this first acknowledgment of husbandly privilege, Phil got up and went over to unveil Emily. It was a bit tricky to get the shirt over the studs on the collar, but then Emily was sitting there, bare to the waist, showing off her perky, somewhat up-tilted breasts. It was true that the black leather collar suddenly looked much more impressive, and in turn the accessory accentuated Emily’s light pink skin with the fine lines of blue veins.
“I’ve got to take a look!” said Emily, as she jumped up and ran into the house to look at herself in the full-length mirror.
Meanwhile, Phil opened the third bottle of wine, the one that Bob had brought. It was much better than the others. While they savored the wine, Bob suggested that they light up. Since Phil didn’t have much experience, Bob lit the joint, took a long toke and then handed it over.
“I look great!” exclaimed Emily as she came back out onto the deck. The two men were astounded to see that she had stripped completely. She was now wearing nothing but the collar and cuffs, unless we count her small pearl earrings.
“Holy shit! You should be in porn!” said Bob.
Phil passed the joint to Emily, who sat back next to Bob and inhaled deeply. With the wine, the weed, Emily’s spectacular exposure, her husband was feeling warm and mellow. Everyone was having a good time. Since they moved to Atlanta, Phil had missed having friends. The people at the law firm were dedicated professionals, but with Bob it was all about fun. It was a new way of looking at life.
Lighting up another twist, Phil leaned back into the wicker chair and looked with satisfaction as Bob rubbed Emily’s back while she puffed. Her face was flushed with pleasure. Giggling, she handed the smoke back to Bob.
After sucking the smoke deep into his lungs, pausing, then exhaling, Phil smiled at Bob and said, “We’d be more comfortable without all these clothes!” He stood up and followed Emily’s example. Taking off his polo shirt, kicking off his topsiders, pulling down his jeans, and finally tugging off his briefs. He didn’t even feel embarrassed as his erection popped out.
“Hey, man!” said Bob admiringly, “That’s quite a tool. I think I know what Emily’s going to have for dessert!” He poked Emily gently with his elbow and she leaned over and gave Bob a long kiss.
Phil rounded the table while they kissed. The feeling of his cock bouncing against her shoulder turned Emily’s attention to her husband. She smiled up at him as she took his member in her hand and began to lick the dark tip.
Bob pulled off his shirt, shorts, and briefs. He stood patiently waiting his turn, caressing Emily’s hair. Soon she turned from Phil’s cock to Bob’s, then, holding each in one hand, she alternated for several minutes. Her husband felt euphoric. It amazed him to be without any sense of jealousy as he watched her tongue lick Bob’s smooth shaft, leaving trails of her saliva as she worked from the balls to the glans. Her leather decorations made him see her in a new way, not as healthcare professional, life partner, and lover, but as party girl out for a good time.
“Bob, this is great, for us. But shouldn’t we be giving Emily something back?”
“Hell, yeah! Emily honey, let us take care of your needs.”
Phil pulled the plastic-covered mat off the chaise longue and threw it on the floor and Bob lifted Emily, as if she were a feather, onto the mat. He knelt down and started licking her sweet slit while Phil lay near her and kissed her while he played with her breasts.
During a pause in the kissing, Emily said, “I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to have two men. This is what I need!”
Phil saw that Bob’s licking and sucking had made his wife’s love button stand right up. It made him hungry.
“Let’s switch places,” he said.
While Bob and Emily kissed and swapped spit, Phil explored Emily’s folds, now so moist with her juices and with Bob’s saliva. He could smell the traces of Bob’s aftershave, but it didn’t bother him at all. By the time he stopped to notice, Bob was kneeling near Emily’s head and she had taken his cock into her mouth again. The sight made Phil’s erection twitch with need and he pushed his way into her well-lubricated vagina.
Their three bodies got into a rhythm, swaying together as the crickets began to chirp out in the yard. Emily’s right hand had found its way to her clit, that she rubbed in a smooth circular motion. Even though her mouth was full, she managed to make little groaning noises. The two men were obviously enjoying the sight as well as the feel.
Phil was the first to come. His swaying stopped, his back stiffened, and he let out a loud “SHIT!” as he shot his semen into his wife. His orgasm had a domino effect, because Emily stopped sucking, went into a series of spasms, and screamed inarticulately. His cock suddenly released from Emily’s sweet mouth, Bob gave it a few strokes and sent three or four spays of very white cum onto her face and her breasts. Several large spatterings stood out on the black leather of the collar.
They were all three on a roll, and so, without any word being spoken, Phil and Bob pulled Emily into a kneeling position on all fours. Bob took his position behind her while Phil made his cum-coated cock available to Emily’s mouth.
As Phil watched Bob push his member into Emily’s pussy, he remembered saying something to Emily just that morning about condoms. But now he couldn’t remember why that had seemed important to him. Skin on skin is so much better, he thought.
Emily must have been thinking about their morning sex too. She paused in her licking and sucking and said, “Don’t forget to call me a whore. I love that. Go on, both of you.”
Bob looked a little hesitant. Why call his friend’s wife a whore? But Phil understood what she wanted and said, “You are such an unbelievable whore. I go off to work in the morning and when I come home you’ve sold your body for a fucking AC repair. What an oversexed little slut!”
Getting into the spirit, Bob finally started. “Let’s face it, Emily honey. You are a whore. One of the best. New to the business, but already fucking with the best of them!”
When he orgasmed, Bob even said, “Fucking God-damned whore!” as he unloaded about a cupful of sperm into her vagina.
They lounged around the deck afterwards, smoking some more. Maybe it was the effect of the weed, but Phil thought Emily’s pussy lips looked so beautiful with Bob’s white cum dripping out, making a small puddle on the mat between her thighs.
Why was he so excited? The idea flashed through his mind that he was aroused by being in bed with a stranger, a different woman, just as beautiful as his wife Emily but bolder, sexier, willing to break the rules. He remembered again how they had fucked the previous afternoon, before he found out about what she had done with Bob. Clearly the time with that other man had pleased and excited her, so that she was ready to ride his cock frantically when he came through the door.
Then he thought: maybe she would have ridden anyone’s cock, she was so hot, so ready.
By now he was fully erect and couldn’t help stroking his member a couple of times. He pulled the sheet down, off of Emily and then pulled her nightie up, exposing her hairless pussy. What beautiful, taut thighs! It was hard not to think, too, about the big, strange cock that had pushed its way past those lips, deep into her. Had they used a condom, at least?
Phil leaned forward and kissed Emily’s labia. He knew that this would wake her up, but he couldn’t help himself. When his lips met hers, her body quivered, but she didn’t say anything. With his fingers, he parted the outer lips and ran the tip of his tongue up one side and down the other, exploring the folds that the stranger’s cock had rubbed and stimulated. As he did this, she became moister. After circling around inside for a while, he kissed her clitoris, which was beginning to rise. He sucked it between his lips and squeezed slightly. Meanwhile, he had reached back to hold his stiffening rod.
Emily now opened her eyes and looked down at what he was doing.
“My God, Phil, this isn’t like you, first thing in the morning! What’s got into you?”
He stopped sucking and looked her in the face. His expression told everything. He was glaring at her with anger and lust.
“The question is, who got into you? But you don’t have to answer. I know. His name is Bob!”
She didn’t even look surprised. “So, what are you going to do about it?”
“I’m going to fuck you like the whore you are!”
He pushed her legs further apart, and drove the purple head of his cock right between her lips.
Emily’s clit was now engorged. She closed her eyes and lay back into the pillow. Her mouth opened slightly and her breathing was faster.
“Is this the way he did it? With him on top? Or did you ride him?”
“We did everything,” she answered. “But the second time it was doggy style. That was the best.”
The second time? Phil was so angry he was trembling. The veins in his neck were swollen and it was an effort for him to spit out his words.
“You whore! You want to be fucked from behind, you’ll get it!”
He pulled out, grabbed Emily by the hips, and flipped her over as if she were simply a rag doll. Then he tugged her hips upwards so that she was on her knees and he drilled his cock between her swollen dark red lips.
Emily was ecstatic. Phil’s usual style was lackadaisical, with minimal energy. Now he was not making love. He was fucking. She loved the results and she let him know it.
“Yeah, fuck me! Finally you got the idea! This is what I need! Fuck me like your whore. Fuck me like everybody’s whore!”
The encouragement worked. He was beyond excited. This wasn’t his wife Emily he was screwing, it was someone else, someone new—a dirty, nasty slut who had kept herself hidden for these three years they’d been together.
Emily had reached her right hand back to push her hand into her crotch so that she could rub her clit. For several minutes there were only the sound of panting, the slapping sound of Phil’s thighs and balls bouncing off of Emily’s cheeks, and the squishy noises of his cock sliding in an out.
Several times Phil felt the convulsive waves of Emily’s orgasms as her body stiffened up and then relaxed again. Finally, with a huge groan, he shot several spurts of cum into her vagina.
Then he collapsed on the bed next to her and closed his eyes.
They panted for a few moments. Then Phil said, “Did you at least use condoms?”
Emily laughed. “Of course not. This wasn’t planned. Next time I’ll be prepared.”
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then he sprang up on his elbow and looked at her with horror.
“The next time! The next FUCKING time? What are you talking about?”
“Look, honey, don’t get all excited. Nothing’s set up yet. I’m just saying that I should be prepared, that’s all. It could happen again. Besides, you lost nothing at all. I even changed the sheets, as I guess you noticed. What you got is air conditioning and a couple of really hot fucks.”
It was quiet for a while. Phil digested what she said. He wasn’t expecting this. He thought she might cry and beg for his forgiveness. He didn’t know what to say.
“But that was prostitution! You can’t deny that. You provided sex for money, for $400, to be precise.”
“It wasn’t in cash. It was barter. It’s no different from being married, you know. Women provide sex and men bring home their paycheck, right? That’s the tradition.”
She continued, “Besides, I’m subsidizing your public-interest career. If you had a corporate law job, we’d have plenty of money for air conditioning, fancy new cars, and all those things. So Bob and I helped you out. Please note that you slept in the cool air that he provided, thanks to my bargaining.”
Phil was nonplussed. He just lay there for a while, pondering the situation. Meanwhile, since it was Saturday morning and they were for once in no hurry, Emily decided she wanted more.
“Call me a whore again! That was fun. It was the first time ever—not even Bob called me a whore.”
The sheets were pulled down, and Emily could see that what she said had had an effect. Her husband’s wet half-deflated member perked up.
“You know what Bob said? He told me that his ex-wife used to work in a sex shop, and on her breaks, when she didn’t have to stay at the cash register, she would go back to the booths and go into an empty one next to one that was being used and make her mouth available for blow jobs. So she had a lot of practice and was really good at it. But he said that I was even better!”
Now Phil’s cock was almost fully erect, but the expression on his face looked like one of sheer pain.
“Don’t look so miserable, baby! Just let me work my magic.”
Emily bent over Phil and took his rigid penis in both hands. It was already well lubed with her juices and his own cum, so she stroked up and down several times, then gave each of his balls a few little licks with the tip of her tongue.
“You and Bob are about the same size, but his cock stands out more because he’s shaved away all his pubic hair. It’s funny that until yesterday I didn’t have much basis for comparison.”
A little tear fell sideways and down from the corner of Phil’s left eye, then another.
Now Emily was circling his purple cockhead with her tongue. Phil’s abdomen tightened and his pelvis thrust his cock upwards, then let it fall back down. He could hear little licking noises, but his eyes were closed. In his head he pictured Emily doing this to Bob’s hair-free erection and the emotional pain mingled bizarrely with the intense physical pleasure. Phil began to think he was going insane.
Emily paused and lay down on Phil’s left.
“Come on, baby. Roll over and slide it in from behind. I don’t have to get on my knees for you to do that. You can just lie behind me.”
Phil really wanted to fuck her. His mouth was dry and he felt as if there were an electric current running through his body, somehow converging on his prick. He rolled over and stuck his erection into her pussy. Emily groaned with pleasure.
“Mmmm! Nice!”
She took his right hand in hers and moved it down into her crotch. With her fingers, she took his middle ones, and rubbed their tips in circles against her clit.
“Mmmm…perfect. Now just say ‘whore’ again and again!”
Phil had no difficulty saying that. He said it again and again and again—“God, what a filthy cheating whore you are! What a whore!”--, but it became more and more muffled as his tears flowed freely. He came, suddenly, with a sob.
Later, after they dozed off for a while, he got up and made coffee and put out the muffins from Kaminer’s Bakery on the table. Emily came out to the kitchen, rosy and clean from her shower, with her wet brown locks all tousled. She looked so innocent and wholesome!
At this point it seemed to Phil that there was nothing more to say for now. Every accusation and objection and even insult just rolled off of Emily or, perversely, excited her.
“You know, the thunderstorms cooled things off enough so that we could enjoy the outdoors. Let’s head to Laurel Creek. I’ve heard it’s nice.”
So after breakfast Emily packed a picnic lunch and they headed to the nature preserve. Loading the lunch in the car would have been easier if they could have pulled Phil’s car up to the kitchen door, but the driveway was a disaster. Not only was it impassable, but it channeled rainwater right into their basement, which was an unusable fungusy hole.
During the afternoon, Phil found himself thinking that he had just had a really, really vivid bad dream. Emily was sweet to him, snuggled up to him, kissed him on the neck, rubbed against him like a kitten. She couldn’t possibly have had sex with a stranger the day before, just to get the AC fixed.
But the idea haunted him. And he realized that Emily hadn’t done it just for the AC. She had done it for the sex. For the cock—and for the tongue in her mouth and the fingers probing her private parts. Private? Could he still call them “private parts”?
They stopped and bought some hamburger meat and some hot dogs and some summer salads so that they could make a quick meal when they got home. Phil even found a couple of bottles of really cheap read wine in Trader Joe’s.
Feeling frisky when they got home, Emily changed while Phil grilled. She put on a pair of opaque black leggings with no panties underneath and just pulled on a sleeveless t-shirt, one just like the one that had such a fabulous impact on Bob. She jiggled her way out to Phil on the deck and handed him a glass of wine.
He was looking her over just the way Bob had the day before. Men! They are so simple in some ways! So interchangeable!
Just then, the doorbell rang.
“I’ll see who it is,” said Emily. “Maybe those Jehovah’s Witnesses came back. No one else would show up at this hour.”
As he flipped the burgers, Phil heard a loud male voice at the door and Emily’s laughter. The screen door banged.
“Phil, guess who’s here! It’s Bob! The hero who saved our AC!”
A large bald man in Bermuda shorts and flip-flops came out onto the deck. The muscle shirt showed off both tattoos and very buff arms.
“Hey! You’re the lucky guy! You’ve got the hottest wife in Georgia, man, and that’s no bullshit!”
Before Phil could think of what else to do, he was shaking hands with Bob, who was holding a large brown paper bag under his left arm.
“Brought you two some stuff.”
Bob put the bag down on the metal outdoor table and took out a large bottle of red wine and then a carefully wrapped gift box that he handed to Emily. Finally, with a sly and for the first time a kind of hesitant look, he fished out a business envelope that seemed fully stuffed.
“I don’t know if y’all partake, but this here is really some of the finest. A buddy of mine grows it out on his gramma’s farm. It packs a wallop. And it’s totally organic.”
He held the envelope out toward Phil, who put down the spatula to open it. The smell of herb filled the summer air.
Emily, holding Bob’s present to her, said, “Bob, you shouldn’t have…After all you did for us yesterday….”
Phil felt a little sick when he thought of what Bob had done the day before. Meanwhile, Emily tore off the wrapping paper, which had an odd imitation-leather design, opened the box, and pulled out a series of leather and metal objects. They looked like little pieces of belt, with shiny pointed metal studs and metal buckles.
“I hope you like them,” said Bob. “I wanted to get you something I was pretty sure you wouldn’t have. You’re a spunky little lady, and I figure that now and then your husband wishes he could restrain you a tad.” Bob looked at Phil with a look of male complicity.
Phil just looked blank.
Emily sorted the objects out. One was bigger than the others, and she held it up to her neck.
“It’s fabulous! I’ve never had anything like this before! I’ve only seen them in pictures—very sexy pictures. Look Phil, it’s a collar and cuffs for BDSM games.”
She held the collar up to her neck, and Bob went behind her to help buckle it on. Phil, however, couldn’t stand the thought of Bob handling his wife. He put down the spatula, and said to Bob, “Bob, why don’t you keep an eye on the burgers and dogs.”
Bob came over to the grill, saying, “I am a man who likes his meat!” Then, thinking better of it, he said, “Maybe that wasn’t in the best taste. Excuse me! I don’t have no lawyer’s gift for the gab.”
Phil stood behind Emily and adjusted the buckle. The collar was about three inches wide, black, lined with felt, and obviously good quality. The smell of the new leather mingled with the fresh marijuana and the sweet meaty smell of the grill. Then there was the intrusive scent of Bob’s aftershave…
Emily stood very still and upright. Once the collar was on, her husband attached the cuffs on her wrists. There was one more pair, for her ankles. He kneeled down and put them around her fine ankles.
“That feels fabulous!” said Emily. “So perverse! It makes me tingle with naughty ideas of what the two of you men are going to do to me!” She laughed and ran indoors to look at herself in a mirror.
“Chow time!” shouted Bob, though there was no need to shout, really.
Phil realized that Bob had just invited himself to dinner, and probably more. Emily came back out, flushed with pleasure and excitement. She threw her arms around Bob, pressing her breasts against his t-shirt, and gave him a big wet kiss.
“Thanks, big boy! You know how to handle a girl, don’t you?”
“They’re sturdy, good quality. They come from the sex shop where Jolene used to work.”
He accepted the glass of red wine that Emily held out for him. The three of them sat down to the outdoor table and Phil served the meat while Emily spooned out the Cole slaw and the potato salad. Phil poured himself another glass and realized they’d already finished one of the bottles. Fortunately Bob had brought a third, larger, one.
Once again Phil had that strange, surreal feeling, as if this was all a dream. He was sitting at the table, eating and drinking with the man who had just possibly inseminated his wife while they fucked the day before.
“Great burgers, chef!” said Bob. “I think this is where I’m going to be eating on Saturdays from now on.”
“You’re always welcome, Bob,” said Emily, letting a hand linger on his arm.
Most of the conversation, while they ate, consisted of Bob’s stories about the hilarious adventures of his ex.
“Note that I call her my ‘ex’. That’s minus an ‘s’. We didn’t have much any more after she put on sixty pounds, all in her hips. I like a nice slim little woman with a tight ass, like yours, Phil.”
Phil kept looking for some triumphant smirk on Bob’s part, some put-down from the man who had fucked his wife. But he could detect nothing but cheerful camaraderie, man-to-man sharing of the good things in life. He finally began to think that Bob just had a completely different value structure, one where possessiveness and competition were absent.
Bob and Emily were sitting close to one another at the table, opposite Phil, who was near the grill, from which he served more helpings of burgers and franks, especially to Bob, whose more than six-foot frame could absorb lots of protein. Bob was admiring Emily in her new leatherwear and said, “You know, it’s really not supposed to be worn with clothes. Let’s see what you lot like with your shirt off.”
Emily obligingly turned and raised her arms so that Bob could pull off her t-shirt, but then Bob looked at Phil and said, “You being the husband should probably have the honors.”
Appreciating this first acknowledgment of husbandly privilege, Phil got up and went over to unveil Emily. It was a bit tricky to get the shirt over the studs on the collar, but then Emily was sitting there, bare to the waist, showing off her perky, somewhat up-tilted breasts. It was true that the black leather collar suddenly looked much more impressive, and in turn the accessory accentuated Emily’s light pink skin with the fine lines of blue veins.
“I’ve got to take a look!” said Emily, as she jumped up and ran into the house to look at herself in the full-length mirror.
Meanwhile, Phil opened the third bottle of wine, the one that Bob had brought. It was much better than the others. While they savored the wine, Bob suggested that they light up. Since Phil didn’t have much experience, Bob lit the joint, took a long toke and then handed it over.
“I look great!” exclaimed Emily as she came back out onto the deck. The two men were astounded to see that she had stripped completely. She was now wearing nothing but the collar and cuffs, unless we count her small pearl earrings.
“Holy shit! You should be in porn!” said Bob.
Phil passed the joint to Emily, who sat back next to Bob and inhaled deeply. With the wine, the weed, Emily’s spectacular exposure, her husband was feeling warm and mellow. Everyone was having a good time. Since they moved to Atlanta, Phil had missed having friends. The people at the law firm were dedicated professionals, but with Bob it was all about fun. It was a new way of looking at life.
Lighting up another twist, Phil leaned back into the wicker chair and looked with satisfaction as Bob rubbed Emily’s back while she puffed. Her face was flushed with pleasure. Giggling, she handed the smoke back to Bob.
After sucking the smoke deep into his lungs, pausing, then exhaling, Phil smiled at Bob and said, “We’d be more comfortable without all these clothes!” He stood up and followed Emily’s example. Taking off his polo shirt, kicking off his topsiders, pulling down his jeans, and finally tugging off his briefs. He didn’t even feel embarrassed as his erection popped out.
“Hey, man!” said Bob admiringly, “That’s quite a tool. I think I know what Emily’s going to have for dessert!” He poked Emily gently with his elbow and she leaned over and gave Bob a long kiss.
Phil rounded the table while they kissed. The feeling of his cock bouncing against her shoulder turned Emily’s attention to her husband. She smiled up at him as she took his member in her hand and began to lick the dark tip.
Bob pulled off his shirt, shorts, and briefs. He stood patiently waiting his turn, caressing Emily’s hair. Soon she turned from Phil’s cock to Bob’s, then, holding each in one hand, she alternated for several minutes. Her husband felt euphoric. It amazed him to be without any sense of jealousy as he watched her tongue lick Bob’s smooth shaft, leaving trails of her saliva as she worked from the balls to the glans. Her leather decorations made him see her in a new way, not as healthcare professional, life partner, and lover, but as party girl out for a good time.
“Bob, this is great, for us. But shouldn’t we be giving Emily something back?”
“Hell, yeah! Emily honey, let us take care of your needs.”
Phil pulled the plastic-covered mat off the chaise longue and threw it on the floor and Bob lifted Emily, as if she were a feather, onto the mat. He knelt down and started licking her sweet slit while Phil lay near her and kissed her while he played with her breasts.
During a pause in the kissing, Emily said, “I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to have two men. This is what I need!”
Phil saw that Bob’s licking and sucking had made his wife’s love button stand right up. It made him hungry.
“Let’s switch places,” he said.
While Bob and Emily kissed and swapped spit, Phil explored Emily’s folds, now so moist with her juices and with Bob’s saliva. He could smell the traces of Bob’s aftershave, but it didn’t bother him at all. By the time he stopped to notice, Bob was kneeling near Emily’s head and she had taken his cock into her mouth again. The sight made Phil’s erection twitch with need and he pushed his way into her well-lubricated vagina.
Their three bodies got into a rhythm, swaying together as the crickets began to chirp out in the yard. Emily’s right hand had found its way to her clit, that she rubbed in a smooth circular motion. Even though her mouth was full, she managed to make little groaning noises. The two men were obviously enjoying the sight as well as the feel.
Phil was the first to come. His swaying stopped, his back stiffened, and he let out a loud “SHIT!” as he shot his semen into his wife. His orgasm had a domino effect, because Emily stopped sucking, went into a series of spasms, and screamed inarticulately. His cock suddenly released from Emily’s sweet mouth, Bob gave it a few strokes and sent three or four spays of very white cum onto her face and her breasts. Several large spatterings stood out on the black leather of the collar.
They were all three on a roll, and so, without any word being spoken, Phil and Bob pulled Emily into a kneeling position on all fours. Bob took his position behind her while Phil made his cum-coated cock available to Emily’s mouth.
As Phil watched Bob push his member into Emily’s pussy, he remembered saying something to Emily just that morning about condoms. But now he couldn’t remember why that had seemed important to him. Skin on skin is so much better, he thought.
Emily must have been thinking about their morning sex too. She paused in her licking and sucking and said, “Don’t forget to call me a whore. I love that. Go on, both of you.”
Bob looked a little hesitant. Why call his friend’s wife a whore? But Phil understood what she wanted and said, “You are such an unbelievable whore. I go off to work in the morning and when I come home you’ve sold your body for a fucking AC repair. What an oversexed little slut!”
Getting into the spirit, Bob finally started. “Let’s face it, Emily honey. You are a whore. One of the best. New to the business, but already fucking with the best of them!”
When he orgasmed, Bob even said, “Fucking God-damned whore!” as he unloaded about a cupful of sperm into her vagina.
They lounged around the deck afterwards, smoking some more. Maybe it was the effect of the weed, but Phil thought Emily’s pussy lips looked so beautiful with Bob’s white cum dripping out, making a small puddle on the mat between her thighs.
Grace
- 25.09.2022
- 7
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- Category:
- Cuckold
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