He Already Was Fucking My Wife

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It wasn’t that our sex was all that bad, but the humdrum of marital routine seemed to have extinguish all fireworks from our sex life: rockets were not bursting in midair for her as we made love. I wanted so much to give her lovemaking like I used to, but whatever I did seemed to fall short and was way too tame to ignite any fires in my wife’s midsection. I wondered what was wrong, then it occurred to me that married sex was too bland to do what I wanted for her. It still was great for me, but it obviously didn’t make the grade for her. She never complained, but I figured that perhaps it was more married life than me, and maybe what she needed was variety: kinky, sexy, exciting, naughty fucking with someone other than the man she spent every day of her life with.

I found an issue of Penthouse Letters at the liquor store and looked through it at the magazine rack. Maybe this was just what I needed, I thought, as I looked through the photos and stories in an issue labeled “Wife Sharing Special.” I bought it and took it to my car, then in the front seat I admired a picture of a naked woman on page 33, stretched out on her back with her legs spread, her pussy shaved clean, and a man on his stomach between her thighs with his face pressed against those open, smiling cunt lips. I pretended it was not her husband but her lover, and my pulse increased accordingly.

I scanned the accompanying letter in the section “Take Her, She’s Mine” and the answer jumped out at me as I read. She needed excitement that an everyday, twenty-four seven husband couldn’t supply, excitement that shot off her rockets. From that moment on I became obsessed with my wife’s sexuality. Not our sex life, but hers. All I could think about over the next few weeks was my sexy young wife fucking other men.

At home that night, I jacked off to images of her with another man’s cock between her legs, pushing into her, picturing it in my mind. I was marvelously stimulated by the notion of Claire having sex with other guys. I read every letter and story in the issue and right then knew what I was going to do.

When I was inside of her, making love, I imagined someone else’s cock buried deep in her pussy instead of mine. I got off that night by imagining her fucking someone, and most times after that I’d visualize her being fucked. It always worked for me, picturing her pussy being filled by a large, hard cock. I’d come relatively soon after the fantasy began.

Each time my friend Jake was over, I began imagining him fucking her, or her sucking his hard cock, picturing his knob in her mouth. I visualized her lips over someone else’s cock, mostly Jake’s. In my imagination, she was always more eager than in real life. That’s where the photos in Penthouse Letters came in. I’d see the people in the picture as Claire and Jake. It didn’t have to be him, but it usually was. I’d see my friend’s mouth pressed against my wife’s pussy. I’d look for models in the photographs who looked like Claire–hair color and body type, but it didn’t have to be accurate to work for me.

She’d never been with anyone else, as far as I knew. It just wasn’t in her, but I had become completely consumed by the idea of someone else fucking my wife. If I closed my eyes during the day, whether I was daydreaming or just dreaming at night, the image of her fucking someone would surge into view. I would see someone’s cock sliding into her vagina, imagined her lips curled over the end of another man’s dick, her tongue tasting the flavor of his precome, licking across his glans excitedly. Jake became my wife’s lover in nearly all of my fantasies. In the privacy of my imagination, my friend had sex with my wife nearly every day.

I was sure she dug him. They had been friends since before we started dating, so I was sure he was perfect for my wife-sharing fantasies. I obsessed about it for nearly a year, preoccupied with her make-believe extramarital sex, savoring the mental images of her screwing someone else. I found myself planning how to make it happen, and that’s when I decided to bring Jake into my plans.

I constructed elaborate scenarios with images of her fucking him: sucking, kissing, using the couples pictured, substituting my wife in the woman’s place and Jake in the man’s. I wanted to make it happen.

I constantly read all the sex stories I could find, visualizing it just as the photos and stories laid it out. If a guy was fucking a chick from behind in a photograph, I pretended it was Jake ass-fucking Claire. When a picture showed a woman sucking a big, erect cock, I imagined it was my wife doing my buddy, and I savored the idea of her loving the thickness and texture of his hard on. She’d smile around his cock as she blew him. I wanted Claire to be doing Jake like the models in the photos did to the guy pictured there.

One story in particular that really turned me on was about a wife who was having an affair with her husband’s best friend during the day when hubby was at work. For obvious reasons, I loved that story, Ankara escort read it time after time, and it never failed to produce a hard cock and an explosive orgasm. Maybe guys would think it was strange to be turned on by stories of your wife having an affair, but I’d constantly imagine Claire screwing Jake while I was away from home.

Why did this turn me on so? I have no fucking idea, but the fact was it did. Constantly. I began to drop hints to Jake, kidding him about eyeballing Claire, lusting after her, secretly wanting to fuck her. I was trying to let him know, without actually telling him that I wished he would fuck my wife. Once he turned and said, “Where do you think I was yesterday while you were at work?” When I shrugged he said, “At your house fucking your wife.”

That day, believing he was just fucking with me, I asked him as we showered at the gym if he’d ever fucked another man’s wife, but he just grinned, as if the question was stupid. When he didn’t answer, just scowled, I asked if he had ever thought about doing such a thing. He said, “I told you I was fucking her yesterday.”

Of course I didn’t believe him, and I began laboring to come up with a strategy to get her to fuck someone else. I considered the old cliche, a night of drinking and partying and inviting Jake, getting Claire drunk and hoping she’d fuck him. I thought about leaving them alone and hoping it would happen. I realized that when Claire drinks she gets really sleepy. No way I’d want her falling asleep under him.

Pot does it for her, makes her horny as hell, but Jake doesn’t smoke weed, and knowing that I figured she’d never go for smoking it around him. I considered the old strip-poker party ploy, but Claire doesn’t like card games. Just to get her to agree to that would be difficult enough. Getting her to fuck Jake may be impossible. She’d have to be drunk, but then she’d most likely just fall asleep. To get her to take her clothes off around Jake wouldn’t be hard, she’s done it before in a hot tub, but I felt there’d be no way she’d never agree to adultery. That plan seemed like a lost cause and I looked for other ideas. I finally discarded all the scenarios outlined in the many stories and pictures I used for masturbatory fantasies.

Ultimately, I simply decided that first I needed to just tell him what I wanted, then see if he was interested, see if I could convince him to fuck Claire. I couldn’t imagine him not wanting to have sex with her, so I decided the direct approach was best. I knew he had the hots for Claire, but I didn’t know if he’d go for fucking his best friend’s wife. I was afraid Jake was too ethical to do anything so duplicitous. I worried he’d never go for getting a woman to be unfaithful, even if her husband was his coconspirator.

The day we were at the gym and I asked him if he’d ever fucked another man’s wife, he looked at me like I was suggesting adultery should be an Olympic event. “You fucking somebody’s old lady?” he asked me as we were leaving the gym. I told him I wasn’t talking about me, but he kept looking at me in that suspicious way, like he didn’t buy it. “Then who?” he said, looking a little disappointed in me.

It was a perfect time, I figured, so I told him all about my fantasies, my obsession with seeing Claire fuck another man. We stood next to his car and he just stared at me, then finally he smiled. It was a strange smile, like he knew a joke before being told, and he didn’t say anything. I told him I’d been thinking about encouraging Claire to take part in a threesome, trying to get her to consider fucking another guy or bringing another person into our bed for some three-way sex. “I think she needs to fuck someone else,” I said, feebly attempting to explain my bizarre idea and not sounding like male sexual bullshit. “I have been thinking about it for a long time and have come to the conclusion that Claire needs some “strange” cock once in a while.”

His expression went from a frown to quizzical and back to stern. He had furrowed his brow, but then his expression changed and he began to chuckle softly. It was a peculiar laugh because I didn’t know if he was laughing at me, with me, or because he certainly would be open to fucking Claire. “You want me to fuck your wife,” he finally asked, snickering as if I’d just let him in on a marvelous joke. “Seriously, you’re inviting me to be in a threesome with you and Claire, your wife, the woman I introduced you to, and you haven’t asked her yet?”

“Well, I’m asking if you’d like to,” I said. “I’m not sure she’d ever do such a thing, in fact probably not, but I think she might like it if she gave it a try, if she’d loosen up a little. I think maybe she even needs it,” I said, trying to make my case sound like I had only her interest in mind. “She doesn’t know I’m thinking about it and I don’t really think she’d agree to fuck anyone else, but I’ve become almost obsessed with the idea,” I said. “See, I’d like her to fuck someone else, just for a change. You Ankara escort bayan understand?”

He didn’t nod or give any indication he either understood or agreed with any part of the idea. “What if you found out your wife was already fucking somebody else?” he asked. “How would you react?”

“Claire? No way,” I said, certain there was no way she’d ever be unfaithful, even with my consent.

“Your wife is not as sexually inexperienced and straitlaced as you think,” he said.

“Claire? Yeah, right,” I said. “What do you know?”

His expression went from noncommittal, to lost in thought, to uneasy, and he was quiet for a long time. “You would be okay if she fucked someone else? You fucking with me?”

“I want to get her to do that,” I said with a shrug. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. It would be fine with me.”

As we stood there, looking at one another, I remembered back to the time when we were leaving a bar and he boldly told me, after I pushed him about what had put him in such a good mood, that he’d been over to my house fucking my wife while I was out of town. I knew he hadn’t been and I just laughed about it. Guys bullshit each other all the time and when I didn’t react he was quiet, then he changed the subject. Guys brag constantly about fucking each other’s wife or girl friend. I knew that, and I never gave it anymore thought. It didn’t piss me off, because I knew at the time he was full of shit and was just playing me.

“Okay, don’t tell me,” I said. “Be an asshole.”

But now as I explained my wife-sharing fantasies, I thought back to that day when he jokingly claimed he been fucking my wife the day before, when I was out of town. My telling him about my obsession to see her fuck someone else seemed to bring back that goofy grin.

Jake had appeared at a loss when I said I wanted her to fuck someone else. Why would it mean anything to him? Then I wondered about his remark about being over at my house fucking my wife. Impulsively, I asked, “Have you… and Claire?”

He looked at me and there were pangs of conscience in his face. “Have I ever had sex with Claire?” he said, completing my thought, puffing out his cheeks and expelling a deep breath. Finally, he just shrugged, made a face, and said, “Yes. I guess so.”

“You’ve fucked my wife?” It took him nearly three minutes to answer, then finally nodded.

“For about three years now,” he said sheepishly, looking like he might turn and run. I had not seen that coming and I shook my head.

“You’ve been fucking my shy, unsophisticated, sexually subdued wife for about three years?”

“Claire isn’t sexually subdued, buddy,” he said, “and that’s for sure, and she certainly isn’t inexperienced.”

“You mean I’ve been trying to get my wife to open up and try new things during sex, to even consider other partners, and all the time she’s been doing all those things with you?” He nodded, contrition on his face.

“I’ve tried to tell you,” he said softly. My mind went to the story of the wife fucking her husband’s best friend during the day while hubby was at work. It had aroused my each time I read it and it did again as I recalled it. I pictured Jake’s cock sliding into Claire’s pussy, spreading her swollen lips apart, on top of our bed, during the day. I shook my head. “Holy shit,” I said realizing what I wanted had been happening all along.

“I’ve been fucking Claire now for years,” he admitted quietly. “You thought I was bullshitting that day when I told you I was over at your house fucking your wife, right?” I nodded, feeling just a bit dense. “I wasn’t kidding. I’ve been fucking Claire since just after your wedding.”

Now I was the one not knowing what to say. “You shitting me?” was all I could get out.

“Ask her,” he said. “We started one day when you were out of town, and we’ve been doing it regularly ever.”

“I wanted you fucking my wife,” I repeated, “and you have been.” He smiled, awkwardly, and nodded. “No shit?”

“No shit,” he said.

Guys like to bullshit about doing other guy’s wives, stuff like that, but I he wasn’t BS’ing. I’d been trying to figure out how I could get her in bed with someone else and he tells me she’s even considered a threesome.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. A little surprised,” I said.

“It is what you wanted, right?” he asked.

His tone then changed to apologetic. “The way you were dropping hints all the time, I thought for sure you knew,” he said. “When I said I had been at your place fucking your wife, I was trying to find a way to tell you, but when you didn’t believe me I didn’t know what else to say.”

I shook my head and laughed about the irony of it all. I told him more about using the pictures, about substituting each of them in the photos.

“About that threesome,” he said. “Are you still interested, or am I a dead man?”

“Claire talked about a threesome?” I asked, incredulous.

“She thought it’d be fun.”

“Holy shit. You Escort Ankara telling me that my timid little wife who I thought I was going to have to convince to fuck someone else has been fucking you all this time and has shown interest in doing it in a group?”

“I guess we don’t know other people as well as we think,” he said. “Well, you gonna kick my ass?”

“I can’t believe I asked you to fuck Claire and you already have been.” I laughed and he joined me.

“Well, what are we going to do about all this?” he asked with a shrug.

“Well,” I began, “why don’t you come over tonight and we can all talk about it.” He nodded and said he’d be over at about seven.

I told her he was coming over and she got really quiet. “Jake and I had quite a talk today,” I said. She stood at the stove and waited for me to say more. “He told me about the two of you. I didn’t know what to say, but the funny thing was I had asked him if he’d consider having sex with you if I could convince you to,” I added.

I could not read the expression in her face, and we both waited for the other one to speak. Finally, she smiled and said, “You wanted him to sleep with me?”

“I thought it would be good for you,” I said, then began to laugh, amused by the irony. She couldn’t repress a grin either, and we both laughed at the craziness of it all. “Tell me about the first time you had sex with Jake,” I asked, more casual and calm than I ever expected. Actually, by then I felt pretty aroused by the fact that my wife had been fucking my friend while I was at work.

She reached out and took my hand, leading me to the sofa. “He came over one day on his day off while you were out of town,” she said quietly. “We talked, one thing led to another, and we ended up on the couch, this couch. He kissed me and I just melted into him. I had a dress on and I let him pull it up, take off my panties, and we made love right here on the sofa. After that we went into the bedroom and did it again on the bed. Since then he’s come over maybe once a week, a few times twice.”

I told her about my obsession lately with fantasies of her and him, fucking during the day. I explained about the magazines and photos of couples fucking and how I would imagine them to be her and Jake. We both laughed again and she kissed me.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I got the urge to include Claire in my fantasies, to share with her my feelings of the past year, so I retrieved a magazine and held it out, showing her one of the pictures I used to construct my dream world. It was the one with a woman having her pussy dined on by a muscled dude. On the opposite page was a photo of a woman facing the camera astride a man whose head was behind her, his cock buried deep in her pussy, opened wide by the position of her legs. She had blond hair like Claire, and braced herself with a hand on each of her thighs. “I pretended this was you being fucked by Jake,” I said. She smiled and took the magazine, holding it in front of her.

“I’m quite a fox in this picture,” she said with a wicked grin. “You imagined that was Jake and me?” she asked.

“For about a year now,” I explained. “I was going to try to persuade you to open up sexually, you know, fuck other men, but you already have,” I added with a shrug. “I’m surprised that you have, but I am not sorry. It really turns me on to hear about the two of you fucking on this sofa, and our bed, every Tuesday.”

“Mostly the bed,” she said, her composure snowballing as we talked.

When Jake came over after that they were tentative with one another at the front door and I laughed. “You can give her a real kiss, for god’s sake, you’ve been fucking her for three years.”

They both laughed and Jake took my wife into his arms and they kissed. It was the kiss of lovers, not a peck from husband’s best friend. “How we going to handle this?” he asked when, after nearly a minute they broke the kiss. We walked to the couch holding her hands, him on one side and me on the other.

“This is the famous first-time sofa?” I asked as we sat down. They both nodded, reddened, and looked at one another sheepishly. I figured the blush was as much from arousal as discomfort. “I don’t expect you two to change your habits, to suddenly become platonic friends because I know,” I said. “Could I interest anyone in a threesome?”

For two hours we talked there on the couch about what we all wanted, about how they felt about each other, and how I felt finding out they had been sexually intimate for years. I said I felt better about it than I expected to, and went in more detail about my fantasies, my desire to see her with another man. Claire and Jake listened attentively, holding hands all the while, then they each told me how much they cared for each other and for me.

At about eleven I asked Jake if he would spend the night with us. He looked at Claire and she smiled, then nodded. He said he’d love to and we all went to the bedroom. I asked if I could watch them first and they slowly undressed one another and crawled into bed.

When they were both nude Claire climbed on top of Jake and reached around behind her, gripping his erection, then raising up and guiding it to her pussy, wiggling her hips around and moving his cock up and down at the entrance to wet the tip and help it in.

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