by Vivian Ward
I can feel Scott's cock pushing up against her vaginal wall, making the fit even tighter than it is when we are playing alone. I wonder what it must feel like for her to have both of her holes stuffed by two cocks.
Once she gets used to me, she starts moving her hips again. Scott starts moving his hips as well, and I follow suit, sliding in and out of her. She's making sounds I've never heard her make before.
"I'm gonna cum," she yells as another orgasm starts to rip through her body.
Both Scott and I have also been pushed to the point of no return. I listen as he starts grunting and lifting his hips off the bed, burying himself in her pussy.
I match his rhythm, grabbing her hips and sliding in and out of her ass. I yell out as I begin to cum inside of her and with one more big hip thrust, Scott empties himself into her as well.
After a few moments, I pull myself out of her ass, and Cathy slowly lifts herself off of Scott's cock. I have the perfect view as she rolls onto the bed, our cum leaking out of both of her holes. Scott gets up, grabbing a towel to clean himself up with, and I lie down on the bed next to her, taking her into my arms.
Chapter Twenty-One
Scott sees his way out once he’s dressed, leaving Brett and me all alone.
“Did you have fun?” I look into his hazel eyes.
“I always have fun when I’m with you,” he kisses my forehead. “The important question is did you have a good time?”
“Oh, my God! Are you kidding me? That was fucking awesome,” I say.
“Come here,” he says, pulling me into him so that we’re facing each other.
We lie in silence, staring into each other’s eyes and I think it’s amazing that we’ve finally been able to share this experience together. It’s what we set out to do so many months ago when we started on this journey, and it was even better than I had ever hoped it would be.
As fun as it is to think about and talk about having a threesome, it’s even better actually to do it. I’m glad our first time was with Scott, and I’m glad that Scott and I had our initial encounter alone.
I remember in one email where he told me that he was a fast learner, and he didn’t lie. I think he picked up on quite a bit from our first time together when it was just the two of us, and I think some of that spilled over into today’s pleasure.
I know there were a few guys that we almost met and then there was Arden, but I don’t think a threesome would’ve been as good with any of them as it was with Scott.
Looking into Brett’s eyes, I can see how much he loves me as we cuddle in bed together.
“I love you,” I whisper to him.
“I love you,” his deep voice whispers back as he begins kissing me.
He quickly becomes erect, and for the first time when he enters me, he has to push his way through another man’s come. It’s not a dream this time, and we’re not pretending.
“Awww,” he gasps, feeling the evidence of Scott’s pleasure inside me. “Fuck, Cathy, that’s so hot.”
“I know,” I whisper, opening my legs wider to grant him better access. “Do you like feeling his come inside of me?”
“You have no idea,” he growls as his hips begin bucking into me. “Say it. Say it, Cathy,” he commands.
I know exactly what he wants me to say because we’ve role played it so many times since the night I played the lube prank on him.
“Fuck him out of me, babe. Please,” I beg him.
The difference is that this time, I need him to fuck Scott’s come out of me. I need him to wipe away the evidence that another man left behind.
As much as I’ve needed the reclaim sex in the past and had surges of guilt and pleasure afterward, having another man’s come in me is a new high and a new low.
When I felt him coming in me, using my pussy like that, it was fucking hot, and I wanted it. I’ve wanted to feel someone else’s come in me for a long time.
But after Scott left, the realization sunk in that another man’s come is inside of me. And it’s not just that his come is inside of me, imprinting him on me, it’s that my husband can feel it.
My husband is fucking it.
Waves of ecstasy and guilt wash over me during our lovemaking, but there’s only one constant that never changes:
I need Brett to need me. I need Brett to want me.
Wrapping my legs around him tighter, my thighs hug his waist as I take him all the way inside of me.
“Come inside of me, Brett. I need to feel you now,” I whisper into his ear, my fingers gripping onto him for dear life.
“Oh, fuck, Cathy,” he moans, grinding his hips against mine, pushing himself in as far as he can go.
No sooner than those words leave his lips, I feel his warm come pooling inside of me, and it feels so good.
It’s not like any other time he’s come inside of me, not even when we created our children. This is a different feeling; it’s more meaningful.
It says that I belong to him, that my body is his, and he’s claiming it.
As I process these thoughts and emotions, the feeling of his come inside of me sets something off inside of me, and my climax begins.
“That’s it, baby,” his breath pushes my hair away from my face. “Come on me. Let me get you off.”
It’s at this exact moment that I realize that the last dick I came on wasn’t his and I get this sinking feeling inside my gut.
It’s guilt.
And it’s quickly replaced by a high that only he can give me when I hear his voice again, bringing me back to reality.
“Oh, Cathy, I fucking love you,” his voice rumbles in my ear just before he kisses me.
Our teeth clash against one another’s and my lip gets caught in the crossfire, but I don’t care. The metallic taste in our kiss is nothing compared to how much I feel his love for me right now.
Moaning, I mumble that I love him too as my body sinks into his arms and he cradles me, spooning me close to his warm body.
“Did I ever tell you that you’re the best wife?” he asks, his face nuzzled against my neck.
“I think you’ve mentioned it once before.”
We lie in bed for the next half of the day, cuddling and making love until it’s time for the kids to come home from school and Brett has to get back to work.
Since that day, the three of us have had many threesomes together—all of which have been equally as great as the first one.
Scott has become my long-term friend with benefits, and the two of us have been seeing each other for almost two years. I never thought we’d last this long, but I’m grateful for him. He’s an excellent lover, and it’s become second nature for me to see him on our days off together.
Even though I see him regularly, Brett and I decided to keep our profiles active on the various dating and swinger sites and still post Craigslist ads from time to time.
We do this because Scott and I do have a lot of one-on-one time, so our threesomes are somewhat limited, but we are all okay with that because we’ve all became friends.
Scott’s wife, Misty, finally asked to meet me a few months after Scott and I started seeing each other. She and I have developed a rare friendship that I never expected. I always thought that she’d be the woman who hates me or views me as the “other woman,” but it’s quite the opposite.
In an odd twist, she sees me like an angel and a good friend. She says that she never has to worry about Scott leaving her because of me. I keep him happy, and that makes her happy.
When she’d initially given Scott permission to have sex outside of their marriage, she was always worried that he’d find random women to sleep with and catch a disease or fall in love with someone else.
Misty told me that she knows that Scott and I are nothing more than friends who like to fuck, and she’s right. I love Brett, and I love him more than there are stars in the sky.
While it’s true that I do care for Scott, I don’t love him. We’re just good friends who enjoy each other’s compa
ny and occasionally include Brett in our adventures.
This is mainly why we keep our profiles active and meet up with new men from time to time for threesomes. The fact remains that Brett loves watching me perform as his personal porn star and I get off on doing it for him.
When we meet other guys, we typically invite them to a small bar whose staff has a high turnover rate in the next town over for a few drinks. If we all click, we have the man rent a hotel room that’s just up the street from the bar so that the hotel staff never sees us.
It works out perfectly and doing it this way ensures that nobody will know our dirty secret.
I’m a wife, a mother, a friend and just an ordinary woman but I have an extraordinary husband.
They say that we only accept the love that we think we deserve, but the truth is I don’t believe that we ever value ourselves as much as other people do. The view of ourselves is skewed and unkind.
Our relationship isn’t like most others and living this type of lifestyle has opened lines of communication that I never thought were possible.
It’s empowering to talk about your sexual fantasies and desires without judgment, guilt or shame. There is something very sanctioning with being able to openly communicate with your partner about your wants and needs, and have them acted upon.
Brett satisfies me.
He completes me.
Because of him, all of my needs and wants are met. Physically, emotionally, mentally, and sexually. There is nothing that I can’t talk to this man about and nothing that he wouldn’t do for me.
I will be eternally grateful that I have him and that he loved me and trusted me enough with his darkest fantasy. His fantasy has brought us together in ways that neither of us ever knew were possible.
Some might question how sharing your wife while strangers perform sex acts on her body could bring a marriage together, but for us the answer is simple.
It’s the raw passion that brings us together, the sadistic twist that ties us to each other, and the passion to share it with each other that unites the fire between us.
We both get off—sexually—on bringing random men into the bedroom. Some of them are repeats, like Scott, while others are men that I happen to pick up.
The only common denominator in all of this is the strength of our relationship that is unbreakable. While we may find sexual gratification in this dark fantasy that we both share, nobody but us will ever know what it truly means to us.
There are no words to describe the bond that we share from this.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I’m going to miss this place,” I say to Brett as we close the door on the back of the U-haul and wipe my dirty hands on my sweat-covered shirt.
“Me, too, babe,” he wraps his arm around me as we look at our house one last time.
“I still can’t believe that they promoted you to senior analyst and want you to train on site,” I beam at him.
I’m so proud of this man’s incredible accomplishments. He truly is the most intelligent person that I know, and he’s all mine. I’ll never know how I got so lucky to find him or what I did to make him fall in love with me.
“It’s pretty hard to believe myself,” he says.
I’m a little sad that we have to move almost five hours away from here. This house has been our home for nearly three years, and our life here has been so perfect.
“Don’t be sad,” he tells me, catching me wiping my watery eyes. “Did you tell him goodbye?”
Scott and I developed a friendship that I know I will never have with anyone else. We understood each other and were able to create this bond that speaks a language that only we understand.
While we may just be friends with benefits, we shared a deep understanding and respect each other’s marriages.
“Yeah, I went over there on Monday.” I look up to keep my tears from falling, pretending to watch the clouds as they pass by. “Just like I always do.”
“You know you can come see him every once in a while when you come back to see your friends, right?”
With Brett’s new promotion, I’m quitting my job and becoming a stay-at-home mom which will leave me plenty of time to do what I want, but it’s still such a long drive back here.
“I know,” I nod and pretend that it’s something I’ll often do.
I’m not sad for me, but I’m sad for Scott. Once I’m gone, he’ll have to either find a new friend or go without sex. Honestly, I don’t know if his and Misty’s marriage will survive and I feel awful for both of them.
“Hey!” Brett says like he’s about to deliver the best news in the world. “One good thing is you’ll always be able to do what we talked about.”
I look up at him in confusion because I’m not sure what he’s talking about. We talk about so many things all the time that it could be anything from couponing to finding a new gym.
“What’s that?” I ask, fishing the van keys out of my pocket so I can follow him while he drives the moving truck.
“Well,” he starts walking me to the van where all of the kids are strapped in, waiting for us to get moving. “You’ll finally be able to get dressed up and pick up businessmen at the bar in the fancy hotels.”
I laugh and smack his chest.
“Brett, you’re terrible!”
“It’s true. How many times have we talked about that, but there aren’t any fancy hotels around here? Now you’ll be able to do it,” he says.
“Yeah, and my luck would be they’d be one of your business partners or something.”
“Good, maybe I’ll get promoted to C.E.O. when I bring all the business and retain clients like no one before me has ever done,” he winks at me.
The bad thing is, I can’t even deny anything that he’s saying because we’ve always talked about this as part of our fantasy.
I’d get dressed up in a little black dress and sit at the bar, luring businessmen at the hotel and telling him what’s up when he wants to take me back to his room.
The thought of fucking sophisticated, married businessmen while my husband watches turns me on to no end. It’s sleazy, slutty, and downright fucking dirty, but it’s one of the few fantasies that we haven’t acted out on yet.
Feeling a raindrop on my arm, I know that we got the last bit of the U-haul loaded up just in time.
“We better get going. I just felt a raindrop,” I tell Brett.
“You follow me and let me get over when I need to get over. I have my phone if you need to call me.”
“Okay, babe,” I say as I hop in the van and begin to buckle my seatbelt.
We’ve driven through town and are about to get on the highway when I hear a horn honk. Glancing in the direction where I heard it come from, I see Scott and Misty waving good-bye to us.
I honk and return the wave, my movement frantic as it might be the last time I ever see them.
“Who was that?” Angie asks, sitting up front with me.
“That’s one of the guys I used to work with,” I lie to her. “It’s him and his wife.”
She looks at me like she doesn’t believe me.
“We were good friends,” I explain.
“I never saw you with them. How do you know his wife? Did she work with you, too?”
“I met her a few times for get-togethers. She’s a very nice lady. I’ll miss them.”
For the next 287 miles, we drive down the Interstate in silence while the radio plays until we get to our new hometown.
My excitement begins to pick up when I see all of the new strip malls and restaurants that we’ll be able to visit, but it doesn’t set in about how much fun this place is going to be until we pass a couple of upscale hotels.
I hadn’t been able to research the area much, but it wouldn’t have mattered if I did or not since we had to move for him to receive his new promotion. Now I see what Brett was talking about, and I realize exactly what he meant.
This can be a lot of fun with a lot of potentials.
Epil
ogue
My 43rd birthday was yesterday, but Brett had to work all day and take a new client out to dinner, so we didn’t get to celebrate.
To make up for missing my birthday dinner, he told me to get dressed up because he’s taking me out. I have no idea where we’re going, but he promised me a night of fun.
We’ve been in our new home for about ten months now, and I haven’t exactly made many friends. You’d think with not working anymore, I’d have plenty of time to socialize, but the problem is I have nowhere to go and nobody to go with.
As proud as I am of Brett for his promotion, I almost wish he wouldn’t have gotten it. I mean, it’s been perfect for our family regarding having a brand new home, the kids are in an excellent school, and he’s climbing the corporate ladder, but I’m bored and lonely.
I’ve been thinking about getting a part-time job just to get out of the house and socialize. Brett says he doesn’t care what I do as long as I’m happy.
Looking up at the clock, I swipe on a thin layer of lip gloss and straighten my necklace before I turn out the bathroom light. He should be ready to pick me up any minute.
He said to be ready by 8:00.
Just a few minutes past 8, I see his headlights turn up the long driveway that circles the front lawn and I grab my handbag.
“I almost thought you forgot about me,” I say, climbing into the leather front seat of his new sports car.
He loves driving this thing to impress clients, and I don’t blame him. It’s a badass car.
“Sorry, I had to do a few things before I could pick you up, so it put me running late,” he reaches behind me. “Here, these are for you.”
He hands me a fresh bouquet of pink and red roses with baby’s breaths mixed in. They smell fantastic!
“I love these,” I say to him, inhaling their scent. “They’re gorgeous.”
“I picked them up from Amy’s Flower Shop,” he grins.
Amy’s Flower Shop is the place to go to for flowers around here. If he didn’t have such a good job, I’d tell him he got ripped off, but I’ll keep my mouth shut because he can afford a dozen of these if he wanted to.
