by T West
I guess you could say that we were quite close. When we had first started dating things did start off hot and heavy in the bedroom, like many couples I’m sure. We weren’t overly experimental when it came to being kinky or anything; I guess we just had normal straight sex. We did like different positions though, to start with. Doggy was our favorite. Jeff didn’t have an enormous penis or anything (far from it) so doggy was a good way for him to penetrate me as deeply as he could. Other than that it was basically missionary, cowgirl and reverse cowgirl. Although to be honest, I only ever did reverse cowgirl after a couple of glasses of wine – it would have been quite unlike me to ride a penis like that without a drink in me. I’ve never considered myself a prude, but I guess I would have found it slightly embarrassing, even though it was just me and Jeff in the room.
However, even though we had a wedding to plan and a venue to decide on, things between us in the bedroom had unfortunately dwindled over the last few months. We probably had sex about once every two weeks, if that. I do need sexual stimulation more often than that, if I’m being truthful.
There was one thing that Jeff did keep hinting at me to do in the bedroom. At first I thought he was kidding, especially because he only seemed to ask after an evening out, when we were back home and slightly tipsy. However, there was no way I was doing it – I wasn’t going to slide my finger up his bum-hole. No way. Not my index finger, nor middle, nor ring, or my pinkie. And not my thumb either. Not even if he’d just showered and sat in the bidet. I’m a well educated middle class woman after all – why on earth would I want to do that?
Furthermore, from what I’d gathered, a man’s g-spot (or prostate gland, to use the correct term) is quite far up his anal passage. I’m pretty sure my finger wouldn’t reach it, if by some amazing change of heart I decided to try it. Part of me thought he was just kidding anyway, so I basically just ignored him when he pestered me to do it and he’d soon give up.
Anyway, things were moving along quite nicely with the wedding plans when one lazy Sunday I discovered something that led to an unexpected chain of events. It was about 1 o’clock in the afternoon, and I was still in bed reading the Sunday papers. After a morning of no sex (again) Jeff had gone for a run. He was no Adonis, but at least he attempted to keep himself in shape. So, he’d been gone for about twenty minutes or so when a beep came from the bedside table, startling me slightly. Jeff usually took his mobile phone with him on his jogs, but on this day he must’ve accidentally left it behind.
I’m really not a nosey person and understand that everyone (even one’s spouse) needs some privacy, so I ignored it and continued perusing the arts & theatre section. Then, a couple of seconds later another beep sounded as another text message was received.
I paused – my mind momentarily wandered as I remembered that our local handyman was supposed to be coming over tomorrow to fix the window in the spare bedroom that wouldn’t shut properly. We hadn’t yet arranged a time, so I figured this was him texting. Thinking he may need to be informed sharpish of a time to come over, I decided to check my fiancé’s phone, so I reached over to grab it. I had no reason to think Jeff had anything to hide, and for security reasons the window really did need to be fixed, so there was really no harm in what I was doing. Or so I thought.
I opened the first text message and my eyes widened. “Can’t wait to be inside you again,” it read.
What the hell? That was weird. I mean, what did it mean exactly. It didn’t make any sense. Inside him? Where, exactly – in his soul? I clicked open the next one.
“Can’t wait to be inside you for real. 8 inches deep. Rebecca x.” My heart started beating so loudly I could actually hear it. I couldn’t believe this was happening.
First of all, another woman was texting my fiancé and adding kisses after her name. Secondly, I know for a fact (it’s not rocket science) that women don’t have penises, and definitely not 8 inch ones. So what in the blue fuck was going on here? (Pardon my French).
From what I could gather by these two short messages, Jeff had a little texting buddy that wanted to screw him up the back-door with a dildo of some sort. As shocked as I was, I felt slightly relieved that it apparently hadn’t happened yet, judging by the “for real” comment. I mean, I know from his tipsy pestering that he desired a well-lubricated womanly finger sliding up his butt-hole, but a big plastic cock?! This was unbelievable.
Now enraged and very curious, I began opening several more of the text messages in his inbox (that had been previously opened by him) and discovered to my absolute horror that this had in fact been going on for several weeks. There was one recurring theme throughout their exchanges - and that was the anal penetration of my darling fiancé! He had really been encouraging this Rebecca hussy, saying things like: “Yeah baby. I need it up my dirt-track! I want to know what it feels like.”
Not only that, but he had also been implying that I was in some way a prudish lover, and did not meet or satisfy his needs. Like I said, I am absolutely no prude, but fingering Jeff’s inner bunghole was not something I desired to do. With my pulse racing and my palms sweating I read on, and discovered that these two texting deviants were in fact planning to get it together, sooner rather than later. His infidelity was one thing (although it hadn’t actually happened yet) but the dildo penetration was too much for me to take, and I put his phone on the cabinet where I found it, holding back the tears that were welling up in my eyes as best I could.
As I heard Jeff’s key in the door I decided to keep this new discovery to myself. For now.
The following day I met up for a lunchtime coffee with my close personal friend Charlotte. We’d been friends a long time, since uni. I guess I needed a confidant. I told her everything, and couldn’t help a warm tear running down my cheek and dropping into my frothy cappuccino. Charlotte listened to everything, and was as genuinely shocked as I was.
Being the same age and both brunette, Charlotte doesn’t look dissimilar to me. Although to be honest she has kept herself in slightly better shape. I’m curvy and absolutely not fat, but I don’t work out much and I guess that’s where the difference lies. Charlotte is a bit of a gym bunny and always looks great – her clothes are so snug and well-fitted.
Anyway, although Charlotte was shocked and angry at Jeff’s betrayal, she didn’t seem in the least bit shocked to hear that he wanted his asshole drilled by a larger-than-average phallic shaped toy.
“Yeah, loads of guys like that. Didn’t you know? It doesn’t mean they’re gay or anything, it’s just that when their prostate is massaged by a helmet-shaped object it feels really good, apparently. I mean, sometimes with Will…” she paused.
“With Will what?” I asked. Will was Charlotte’s husband and I knew both of them very well. I had even been a bridesmaid at their wedding. Hell, I had even given Will career advice on more than one occasion, when he’d asked me.
She looked slightly embarrassed and smiled. “Sometimes with Will his penis actually oozes pre-cum when I’ve got one strapped-on. That’s right. When I’m behind him making love to his anal passage he drips so much pre-cum that sometimes we have to put a glass down to catch it so it doesn’t ruin the bed sheets!”
She chuckled, and through my teary eyes so did I. This certainly was a revelation. Will was such a man’s man, all butch and beer-drinking. Who would’ve thunk it – he liked it up the ass.
Charlotte urged me to leave Jeff, and I agreed that I probably would. I guess the magical Maldives wedding wasn’t going to happen after all. It was just a case of finding the right time to confront him. I only got an hour for lunch so even though it felt as though our conversation got cut short we said our goodbyes and agreed to catch up soon. I got through the rest of my work day, went home and continued to try to act normal.
After another sexless night with Jeff I couldn’t get to sleep. The image of my good friend Charlotte shagging her manly husband up the back entrance with a strap-on cock was playing heavily on my mind. Perhaps everyone was
at it and I was none the wiser.
I had to see this perverse act for myself, so as Jeff silently slept (no doubt dreaming of being violently sodomized by this Rebecca slut) I crept into the spare room where our PC was. At least the window’s been fixed, I thought as I sat down at the computer.
Unsure of what exactly to search for, I tried typing in ‘man hole’, but the results I got were a bunch of sites about man-hole covers and drainage systems. But after typing in ‘strap-on’, I found the very thing that I had both been looking for and was very uneasy about.
I clicked on a couple of links and began viewing these pictures of the dastardly act. It looked so wrong. I couldn’t believe Jeff was so keen on this - I knew that if his little texting hustler didn’t buck him he would find someone else that would. As my retinas scanned these bizarre sexual acts my mind was perplexed that he wanted a woman to anally invade his incredibly tight mouse’s ear with such vigor. I mean, Jesus – they’d have to wax him first, that was for sure.
Then by chance as I was clicking through this ménage of debauchery I happened upon one that was a video. I thought I was about to witness a porn flick of a couple indulging in this act of anal intrusion, but it was in fact even more risqué. It was a video of three women (all youngish and attractive), gang banging a hapless guy. Of course it was consensual, he was a porn actor, but they were really abusing this poor son-of-a-gun. One of the girls was impaling him fully with her strapped-on huge plastic rod (that was a given), while another was forcing her large strap-on right into the poor bastard’s mouth, so deep it was making his eyes visibly water. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, the third girl in this terrible trio was slapping her large plastic phallus across his face while yelling names at him and verbally abusing him.
There he was, getting spit roasted and abused, and apparently enjoying it. I’m ashamed to say that I couldn’t help but reach down and start rubbing my vagina through my knickers, as this incredibly hardcore video was arousing my womanhood. I wasn’t sure why it was turning me on because the thought of it never had before; maybe it was the thought of Jeff whom I knew so well getting shafted hard up the sphincter, but my pussy juice flowed as I slipped my hand down my panties and frigged myself to a shuddering guilty orgasm.
The next day after work I met Charlotte in town. Of course, the subject of buggering a man anally came into the conversation, as I metaphorically cried on Charlotte’s shoulder about the disaster that my relationship had turned out to be.
“Look, I know it seems like the end of the world,” she said encouragingly, “But there are loads more fish in the sea. To be honest Jeff isn’t that amazing y’know… he’s kinda stumpy. And he’s kind of a choad for being so deceitful with the texting.”
We wandered around the streets, looking in shop windows. I told her about the video I watched, and I admitted that although I found it disturbing, I also found it strangely arousing.
“You see! It’s not that bad is it,” Charlotte said, smiling. “I think all you need to do is try it out for yourself, and I think you might enjoy it. If you were flicking the bean whilst watching this vid then you must have a deep desire to do it. So maybe you should screw Jeff up the balloon knot at least once. I mean, you can still leave him – I think you should leave him. But you may as well do it anyway.”
“Do you really think so? I’m so confused,” I said, holding back the tears because we were in public.
“Yes, I do. Now look, you’re going to need a bit of practice first. It’s like everything in life – everything takes a bit of practice. So why don’t we get you a nice strap-on of your own. My back door is open, so to speak. Will regularly makes love to my bum-hole so I’m pretty good at taking at. He won’t mind a bit either, in fact, he’ll probably like to be there too… to watch, or join in.”
Before I got a chance to resist this proposition, Charlotte had grabbed me by the hand and pulled me into a sex shop. I couldn’t believe this was happening – there I was, viewing strap-on cocks with my good friend, with the intention on buying one.
“I’ve got a 6 incher that I use on Will – he loves it the little slut. But I think you’d suit something a little bit different. Let’s have a look. How about this one?” she asked as she picked up a 7 incher. It was attached to a harness and looked quite realistic with a big bell-end.
“Oh actually, it’s got no balls. You need balls,” she exclaimed, setting it back down.
Next she picked up a 10 inch black one. This one had balls. Big balls. The thing was huge, and we couldn’t help bursting out laughing. We covered our mouths with our hands as we got a funny look from the greasy little creep behind the counter.
“We’ll get that one – but that one’s for Jeff. I think he’d like that one,” she said.
Next up was an 8 inch realistic-looking one, with a veined shaft and a mushroom-shaped bell-end and big round balls. “Jesus, that would make my eyes water if it was up my buggerbox. But I’d like to take it up my pussy – it’s a similar hip action that you use when you insert it into either hole, so we’ll get it.”
We went over to the counter and Charlotte purchased both toys with her credit card. Although nervous and unsure about this whole thing, I was also very excited by it.
I got home that evening and was surprised to find that Jeff wasn’t in the living room as he usually was. I crept upstairs and as I got to the landing I could faintly hear his voice. He was in his office and the door was slightly ajar. As I took a couple of steps further I could hear him more clearly – he was chatting on the phone. To my unease and disappointment I could hear that this shifty little monkey-spank wasn’t having a normal conversation. No, he was bloody-well having phone sex!
“Oh, Rebecca, that’s it, bend me over and spread my cheeks as wide as you can! I need every inch of that tool!”
What a dirty little bugger – I couldn’t believe this! Well, I knew this was what he desired but I didn’t know he was actually chatting to her on the phone about it – in our house! As I turned my ear towards the sordid conversation I could hear familiar slurping noises, and this confirmed that he was in fact furiously masturbating his pecker at the same time.
I’d let him have his fun – for now. I went to bed and as I lay there looking up at the ceiling I felt strangely content. I drifted off to sleep with the mental image of that 10 inch black dildo impaling Jeff hard. Oh, he’d get it. That was for sure.
The next day I phoned Charlotte from work and told her all about my perverted boyfriend’s telephone session with that dirty trick. I asked her if she’d made love to Will’s bunghole lately and she said she hadn’t in a while, but they were planning a night in together that Saturday.
“Hey, why don’t you come over then? It would be a good chance for you to practice.”
Nervously, I agreed. If Jeff was going to have phone sex I was going to do one better, and I wasn’t going to allow myself to feel guilty about it. If Jeff hadn’t taken a shafting from Rebecca yet he sure as heck would do soon.
“I’ll bring a bottle.”
Saturday night came around quite quickly. As I drove over to Charlotte’s visions of huge strap-ons flashed through my subconscious. I knew she would understand if I made my excuses and decided not go through with it, but somehow I managed to get there and walk up the driveway to her front door. Perhaps it was the thought of Jeff getting speared by that monster of a beast that kept me going.
Charlotte answered the door and her welcoming and easy-going manner immediately put me at ease.
“Where’s Will?” I asked. If I’m being honest I was quite hoping to see him. I’d always quite fancied him.
“Oh, he’s upstairs taking a shower. He was playing football earlier and got a bit hot & sweaty.”
We sat down on the couch and she opened and poured the bottle of red wine I’d brought.
We both sipped away as she asked, “You’re not nervous about this are you? I’ve seen the way you look at Will… well now you’re going to get the chance to
have a bit of fun with him.”
As soon as she said that I felt my pussy begin to get moist. This was going to happen. There was no turning back now.
She leaned in and kissed me tenderly on the lips, and I kissed her back. It felt strange at first, kissing another woman, especially a friend of mine that I knew well. But I knew Charlotte was straight – this was just her way of warming me up.
Our hands simultaneously reached out and cupped each other’s breasts, gently squeezing and circling the globes in mirrored motions as we did so. Before we knew it, our tops were off and our bras were unhooked. My full melons hung down, firm and swaying graciously as they were set free from their cotton harness. Charlotte’s, on the other hand, were smaller and perkier, with absolutely no sag and long pointy nipples that stuck out like pink bullets.
Her mouth naturally went down and began to enthusiastically suck on my erect nipples, gently nibbling and playfully biting each one in turn as I felt burning desire in my frustrated gash. When she was done I returned the favor and flicked my tongue over her sharp nips, letting my saliva-fuelled laps knock her pert tits from side to side, making them wobble like firm jelly.
Her hand reached down and undid my jeans, which along with my knickers were pulled down and discarded like yesterday’s news. Her hand greedily molested my fur-pie, letting her soft fingers expertly part my burning labia and determinedly probe their way inside. She outstretched her middle two fingers to make a gun shape, and proceeded to frig me steadily, making sure to caress my jiggling melons as she did so.
I was about as turned-on as humanly possible, and let out soft humming moans of pleasure as my wanton snatch was being superbly probed by this beautiful lady. Charlotte then undid her own jeans and pulled them down along with her silky thong, that were thrown on top of mine to make a heap on the white furry rug. She sat back on the couch and revealed her clean-shaven pussy that glistened like morning dew. Her lips were tight and pretty, and I eagerly reached down to rub up and down their length before inserting a finger inside. Once inside, her muscles clamped down on my finger with mighty force, startling me momentarily, but I was soon able to slide my inquisitive middle finger in and out of her soaking snatch, feeling for the first time what it was like to pleasure another woman.
