by Vivian Ward
“Hehehe,” he giggles. “Oh, yeah,” he whispers.
I don’t know what the hell is going on in this dream of his, but I’m thoroughly enjoying it, so I keep listening.
“Cathy,” he mumbles my name. “Mhmm.”
After another 10 minutes or so, he rolls onto his back, and I can see the tent he’s pitching under the blanket. He’s hard as a rock!
What’s a wife to do?
Fuck with him, of course!
It would be too nice just to let him have this sex dream and stay asleep, It’d be even nicer to go over and wake him up with a blowjob or a hand job, but I’m not doing either of those things.
We’ve been talking a lot about creampies—I have a fetish for them, but I’m also terrified of diseases. I’m very much a germaphobe. For these reasons, I will always play safe. Always.
The only way I could see me not playing safe with another partner is if he were able to produce (NEW!) lab results and I trust him.
Plus, I’d have to be on birth control. We’re talking a lot of “if’s” here.
Anyway, we’ve seen some sexy memes on Tumblr that talk about the wife having a sloppy pussy filled with a creampie that she’ll come home with for the husband to fuck.
The horrible thing about this is I want it.
So bad.
I’d love to come home with another man dripping out of me so Brett can use his cum as a lubricant to fuck my pussy.
Apparently, I’m not the only one turned on by this idea because Brett has even talked about—on many occasions—how he’d like to fuck my freshly used pussy while it’s filled with someone else’s cum. He’s even talked about how he’d like to add to it and have it oozing out of me.
“No, like this,” he mumbles. “Hehehe.”
It’s hard to watch him have sex dreams while I sit idly by so I decide to have some fun with him.
Tiptoeing over to his side of the bed, I take off my nightgown and toss it onto the floor before I grab the lube out of his nightstand.
“Uh-huh,” he agrees in his sleep. “So good.”
I’m trying so hard to stop from laughing, but it’s near impossible.
“Yeah,” he whispers as he begins to lightly thrust his hips.
Whatever is going on in this dream, it seems as though I’m getting it pretty good since he’s fucking me in his sleep.
I continue watching him fuck the air while I pour a glob of lube onto my fingers and shove it inside of me. Once my pussy feels nice and ‘sloppy,' I put the lube back into the drawer and peel back the covers.
I don’t know how he’s doing this. He’s been hard for at least the last 15 minutes, and it’s still going strong, with no stimulation to it other than the air humping.
Slowly, I start stroking his cock, just lightly touching it at first. Caressing it. This seems to kick his dream up a notch or two, and now he’s getting into it. I can tell because his breathing is becoming heavier.
“That’s it, baby,” I coo softly. “You like it when I do that. Don’t you?”
I wrap my fist around him and begin pumping it back and forth in a slow, playful manner.
Suddenly, his eyes start to flutter open, and eventually, they start to try to focus on me. I can tell he’s confused and that’s exactly what I’m counting on.
He’s not going to know if this is real or part of his dream and because he’s disoriented about what’s going on, he’ll completely fall for it.
“Hey, baby,” I whisper. “I just got back from his house. I’m so sorry I didn’t get to send you any pictures, but I got you something else. Do you want to know what it is?”
He nods his head and whispers, “Yes.”
Poor thing, he’s so fucking confused, but he wants whatever it is I’m going to give him. Whether or not this all goes with his dream or is completely different, I have no idea but he’s going along with it.
I spread my legs and climb on top of him, hovering just a few inches above him while I still have a firm grip on his cock.
“I came home with a sloppy pussy,” I push him inside of me.
Even though we’ve never done this with another man, we’ve gone twice in a row before and it feels just like this when he’s already come in me once and then slides back in.
Holy shit! This feels real!
“And I want you to fuck it,” I hiss, leaning over his face.
“Ohhh,” he moans.
“You feel that baby? That’s all of his come, and I saved it just for you.”
Thrust.
Thrust.
Thrust.
“Fuck him out of me, baby. Push his come out of me with your cock.”
Even though we’re only role playing, this is the hottest role play we’ve ever done, and it’s got me so turned on because he doesn’t realize it’s just role play.
My words send him into overdrive, and he starts fucking me like it’ll be the last time we’ll ever get to have one another. It feels amazing.
“Oh, God, Brett! Fuck, babe!”
Sitting up straight on top of him, I grab my breasts and begin to squeeze them as I ride him. He’s so deep inside me that he’s hitting my G-spot perfectly.
He grabs hold of my hips, thrusting harder and faster inside of me. He’s, literally, trying to fuck this “come” out of my pussy.
I can’t hold out any longer. It’s too much. My nipples turn into hardened pebbles as my belly pulls tight and I feel the wave coming on.
“Don’t stop,” I plead with him. “Keep. Going. Babe.”
This is probably the most intense orgasm I’ve had in a long time. I’ve always thought people were making shit up when they said they saw fireworks and stars but I know it’s real.
I see them.
“Oh,” I cry out as I lean forward. I don’t ever want this orgasm to stop, so I’m trying to make it last as long as I can. “Fuck, babe. Oh!”
The determined look on his face is nothing compared to the wildness that his eyes possess. Hot, wild honey burning into me is all I can see when his dick begins to swell inside of me.
Slowly coming down from my orgasm, I’m intent on making sure that his is as good as mine was.
Holding onto the headboard, I balance myself and begin sliding up and down his cock as fast as I can, moving my hips in the most rhythmic motion I’ve ever known.
His hands slap my ass, grabbing hold of the meat, squeezing my ass cheeks together as he buries himself deeper inside me. He’s right there; I can see it as his teeth begin to clench together.
“That’s it, baby,” I coax him. “Come inside of me. Add to his come.”
I can feel thick streams of his cum shooting inside me, flooding me as it leaks back out but he’s nowhere near done. It’s becoming a sticky mess all over his groin and my thighs as he continues thrusting upward into me.
Using my Kegel muscles, I tighten the walls of my vagina to snugly wrap around him to make the grip even tighter as I milk him for every drop of come that’s still left in his aching balls.
“Fuck, Cathy!” he belts out, his fingers digging into my hips as I continue grinding against him.
“Oh, my God!” He takes a few deep breaths. “What the fuck?”
He’s fully alert now. Completely awake.
Now, he’s confused.
I smile down at him, proud of my creativeness and the incredible orgasms that we both just experienced.
“How was it, babe?” I ask.
“Oh, shit,” he says. “That was so fucking good.” He pauses for a moment while his cock finally begins to stop twitching inside of me. “Did you leave? You go somewhere?”
I shake my head.
“No, I didn’t go anywhere,” I laugh. “You were having another sex dream about me, and I decided to take advantage of you.”
“What’d you do? I know you did something, I just don’t know what it was.”
As he begins to subside, I ease off of him and grab his shirt from last night off the floor and start to clean up w
ith it.
“You know how we’ve been talking about me coming home with a cream pie?”
“Yeah?” I can see his eyebrows furrowing.
“I decided to grab the lube and let you think it was come. It was just a little role play, that’s all.”
He looks over at the nightstand and sees the drawer still slightly open and knows I’m telling the truth. I toss him the shirt as I start to put my panties back on.
“Huh,” he says, nodding. “That’s fucking genius. What the hell possessed you to do that?”
“I dunno,” I shrug. “I was just trying to be creative. It’s something that we’ve talked about, and it’ll likely never happen, but I thought it’d be fun to try.”
“Well, I liked it,” he laughs.
“Yeah, you did! I thought I’d do it while you were having the sex dream because I knew you’d be confused and a little disoriented, so it’d be more believable for you.”
He shakes his head at me.
“That’s not playing fair, you dirty little sneak.”
“You love me,” I say, carefully taking his disgusting shirt from him after he’s wiped off with it.
Now that we’re both clean, I toss it in the dirty clothes basket and cuddle up in bed with him.
“Cathy?”
“Hm?” I ask.
“I love you.”
“I love you. Good night…and stop having sex dreams,” I tease.
“Maybe I would if someone would stop molesting me in my sleep!” he says.
“Shut up! You like it, perv!”
Chapter 16
By the end of the week, Scott and I have exchanged a few more emails, and he’s very eager to meet me, and I’m just as excited to meet him, too.
He tried to give me his phone number after the first few emails, but I politely declined. Brett and I decided early on that it would be better if none of the guys ever had my number and we communicated exclusively through email.
This helps prevent them from being shady, trying to hook up with me behind his back (which would get them barred from any future fun) and it prevents them from calling or texting me over and over if shit goes south.
Even though it’s Saturday and I’m scheduled to go in this afternoon, we’ve decided to meet up at a nearby walking trail on my way into work.
It’s a pretty populated area with plenty of people who walk and run on it, so it seems like a relatively safe place to meet him. Today is Brett’s turn to lead the Cub Scouts, so I’m going solo.
Pulling into the commuter parking lot, I see the blue pickup truck that Scott described to me. It’s a raised, electric blue pickup with a jagged lightning bolt running down the side of the vehicle.
It would be impossible to miss something like this, but even if that weren’t enough, I also spot the sticker in the back window that represents the American flag. He served in the military and is proud of our country.
As I turn the engine off and open the car door, it flies out of my hand, catching me by surprise.
I look up and smile as I see him opening the car door for me.
“Hi,” I say smiling up at him.
My uneven voice gives away my nerves.
He’s even better looking in person.
“Hello, Cathy,” he returns a handsome grin that shows a concealed dimple.
Looking around, I check to make sure there are plenty of people, yet I also scan for familiar faces to make sure nobody that I know sees us together.
“Should we go for a walk?” I ask once the coast is clear.
“After you,” he extends his arm.
While the two of us are walking, it just feels natural to be with him. It’s not weird nor does it feel forced.
“So, it’s been a while, huh?” I start off the conversation after we’ve made small talk about the weather and people.
“About four and a half years,” he says matter-of-fact, the corners of his lips pull down as he tries his best to smile.
“That’s gotta be rough,” I wait for a mother with a stroller to pass us on the trail. “Have you done anything like this before?”
“Not that it’s any of my business,” I quickly add.
He smiles at me.
“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind questions. To tell you the truth, I used to cheat all the time in other relationships before I marred her, but she’s different. I have never cheated on her. Never.”
“Why now?”
I know it’s blunt, but I’m curious.
“Let’s face it, I’m 47, and in a few years, I’ll be 50. The ladies don’t want old married men. Usually, they don’t even want married men.
“When I saw your ad, I thought it was perfect. It’s the ideal situation for me. You’re married, I’m married, and neither of us is looking for any emotional attachment, no reasons to leave our spouses. Just sex, and that’s all I want.”
“That makes sense,” I agree with him.
“I love my wife, but it’s hard not to have sex. It’s something I love to do, but with her medical condition, it’s not possible for us to do it, so I’ve patiently sat by her side. For the longest time, I was creative and tried to find ways to engage her, hoping that something would work, that I’d find something to stimulate her.
“Sex for the woman is just as important as sex for me. I take great pride in making sure the lady always gets what she needs otherwise there’s no fun in it.”
From the sincere tone of his voice, I can tell that he means it. This guy is the real deal, there’s nothing fake about him, and I like it.
Most of the guys I’ve talked to or have tried to meet were only in it for themselves, but this guy seems like he has something to bring to the table—for my pleasure, not just his.
“I hear that,” I nod in agreement as we walk past a patch of tall oak trees before we reach the small bridge that leads us to the pond.
“I’m the same way,” I tell him. “I like to please the man I’m with, and I usually do a pretty good job.”
We smile at each other, and this might sound crazy, but it feels like we get each other.
“I’ve read about stories where men have complained about women lying in bed like a dead fish, and I can assure you, I’m no dead fish. I’m more of a,” I pucker my lips as I come up with the right word. “I’m more of a firecracker in bed. I’m lively, full of energy and I make sure things end in a big bang,” I laugh.
“Yeah? Sounds like a good time to me,” he says. “One thing that I didn’t mention to you before is that I’m clean. I don’t have any diseases—I’ve never had one. And I’m fixed, I got snipped about 20 years ago.”
“Oh, um, that’s good. My husband got fixed too, and it’s nice. Neither of us has ever had anything either.”
We’ve made a full circle on the walking trail and are back by the commuter parking lot where we initially parked.
“Scott, I’ve got to say that I like you. I don’t know why but I feel completely comfortable with you.”
“I was about to say the same thing,” he bobs his head. “It feels like I’ve known you forever.”
“So…do you want to see each other on your next day off?” I say as we come to a standstill.
The warm afternoon sun is beaming through his blonde hair, making his blonde hair look red in certain patches. Even if he were a ginger, he’d still be cute.
“Would I? Yes, I’d like that,” he flashes me a warm grin that makes me feel good.
It’s the kind of smile that says, “I really dig you.”
We walk back to our vehicles and saying goodbye is a bit awkward but mainly because neither of us wants it to end because we were having such a good time talking, but I have to get to work.
“I guess I’ll talk to you later?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’ll email you.”
We shake hands before I get into my car and head in for my shift. Work is going to be mighty hard to concentrate on tonight.
The kids are outside playing while Brett and I enjo
y our Sunday off together. He typically works Monday through Friday, so we don’t get to hang out much on my second day off.
Typically, I’ve always reserved Monday’s for house cleaning days while the kids are all at school and I dreaded them. But now that I’ll be doing some extracurricular activities, they don’t seem nearly as bad.
Work was so busy last night that I didn’t get a chance to tell Brett about mine and Scott’s conversation during our walk. By the time I got home, he was sprawled out across the bed, snoring.
“Is that all the two of you said?” he asks.
I’m trying to rack my brain to remember every detail, but it’s hard to do because we talked about quite a bit. Our walk probably lasted about an hour because many parts of it were interrupted since we were being cautious about what we said around others.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure. All I know for sure is that things started well and ended well. I couldn’t ask for better.”
“Why is that?” Brett’s brow furrows to the middle of his forehead.
He’s insinuating that I like Scott based on the inflection of his voice and his body language.
“I don’t mean it like that!” I throw a couch pillow at him. “It’s just that he’s friendly, respectful and not a tool like most of the other guys. I like him, and I think this is going to be awesome.”
“Yeah, except the fact that I’m loaning you out instead of being included,” he sulks.
I feel bad. I really do. When we started out on this venture, it was always supposed to be a threesome with some occasional one-on-one time with the other guy.
The problem is that none of the guys responding to us are interested in threesomes. They say they are, but they’re not. You can always tell right away too because they’ll ask about us having sex alone without Brett almost immediately.
It’s like they don’t even try to beat around the bush that they only want me. They’ll say things like, “So does he always want to be there? Will he always watch?” or my personal favorite from the creepiest of creepy dudes is, “When do I get you all to myself?”
Cringe.
It makes my skin crawl.
“You know what, I want to ensure he’s going to be okay with the camera when I go over there. Let me email him real fast.”
