Last night something special happened.
It was one of those rare nights without the kid. My husband and I retired to bed early to spend the entire evening fucking. The sex was spectacular. I was lucky enough to marry a man who absolutely loves cunnilingus, and is genuinely good at pleasuring me with his mouth. (This may have secretly been one of the very reasons that I married him). He makes me feel things with his lips and tongue that I can barely describe. Lordy, he eats pussy well!
We have a pattern to sex: a few minutes of kissing that escalates pretty quickly to him going down on me. I’m usually lucky enough to get a solid twenty minutes of oral attention before he flips, which is my turn. We sixty-nine for another fifteen (and I generally come this way, with his cock in my mouth and his mouth on my cunt). After I come I often can’t handle any more direct stimulation, but I give him a nice blowjob as payment for his kind attention to my needs. I get him pretty close, and then beg him to fuck me, and generally he doesn’t last long. Which means I don’t get a lot of banging.
Basically, we follow this routine every time during sex. If it sounds boring to you, I assure you its not. I am absolutely guaranteed an orgasm. My husband’s favorite foreplay is eating my pussy (or so he says). And while I love penetrative sex, I think I’m a lot more satisfied generally from the amount of oral pleasure I give and receive. (My husband’s second-favorite sexual activity is the blowjob, so I guess he doesn’t mind it either).
I’m in a confessy mood right now, so I’ll tell you that I love his cock but I fantasize about bigger. Which is silly because he fills me nicely with his average-sized dick and I honestly get sore easily. But that doesn’t stop me from dreaming of being crammed full of a huge amount of man. Which is impossible, and would be unpleasant in real life, but I still fantasize about it. I’ve told M about this fantasy. He nodded with understanding which made me feel really understood. He’s also asked me many times during foreplay to describe my sex life before him, in gritty detail. He wants to know how big the guys were, what positions they liked, how they made me come. He doesn’t seem interested in this in a competitive way, like he wants to be biggest or best. He just seems interested, and tells me it turns him on. I’m reluctant. I don’t really want to know about the women before me in anything more than a general way.
Last night everything proceeded as normal: kissing, cunnilingus for a long time, sixty-nine until I came, an extended blowjob for my husband, and finally penetration. But instead of a quick rut, my man was up to something different. He fucked me, sure enough, but with this torturous slow pace that made both of us absolutely crazy. He would slip balls-deep into me, and then completely withdraw for what seemed like an eternity, then back in to the hilt. And he kept doing this. I thought I was going mad with pleasure. My god did it feel great!
Somehow he managed to keep this going for an incredible length of time. I normally get sore pretty quickly when he starts pounding me, but this slow, all-in-all-out technique felt like perfection. I lost all track of myself, of my body. All of my attention was focused on the sensation of his cock slipping in, resting, slipping out, resting… My pussy felt empty, full, empty… Fuck. It was incredible. The best sex of my life. And the longest. From beginning to end we must have been going for two hours.
When we were both so drenched in pleasure that we could hardly think straight, M started telling me a fantasy he has about watching me get fucked by another man. He’s told me this on several occasions during foreplay. I don’t really encourage this fantasy, but I’m happy to listen if it helps him enjoy himself. But last night was different. At the point where I was at wit’s end with lust, him slipping with agonizing slowness in and out, he started describing it in great detail. He spared no detail, right down to how the guy’s cock would look thrusting into my pussy, how his cum would fill my cunt. And I couldn’t help myself. I came. I never come on M’s cock, but this time I did. And that set him off, and he grabbed me and fucked me with a sudden fury and came almost immediately.
After we were done, we kept talking about that fantasy of his. I was curious why it turned him on so much, wondering why he would want to share me. Wouldn’t it make him awfully jealous? He said that it would make him jealous (though he’s confirmed not to be the jealous type), but that was part of the thrill for him. He described it like a sort of punishment to watch me be fucked by another man, and the punishment angle alone was enough to get him hot. Or like giving me an extravagant present. Not to mention that watching me take another cock alone was just incredibly dirty and a huge turn-on for him.
“It seemed like you really loved it when I told you about my fantasy,” he said, referring to the way that his description had caused me to explode a few minutes earlier during sex. Hesitantly: “Do you think you would ever be into that for real? Like, real life?”
Boom. I was shocked but not appalled.
You need to understand my husband. He is super mild-mannered. If you met him you’d think that he could never say a dirty word. In fact, people are often shocked when he first drops an f-bomb in front of them. But at home he’s really dirty, likes to take charge in bed, and as I already mentioned he loves to bury his face in my pussy. Not what you might expect and he often still surprises me with the depths of his cute depravity.
And you know some of my twists and turns if you’ve read my erotica. I’m shocked by nothing in my fantasy life. All sorts of sex are open to me in my imagination. But the sex in my marriage has been ultra-satisfying and also quite safe. We’re super into one another and good at getting the other off. Well-practiced. I’ve got, like, fifteen years of practice milking the cum out of his cock and he seems to like that. But it’s pretty vanilla. Super dirty, passionate — but vanilla.
Now he was asking me, for realsies, if I wanted to let another man fuck me in front of him for his (and my) pleasure. In theory I’m totally comfortable with this. I’ve written stories about it, partly inspired by my awareness of his fantasy. But stories are fiction, and this was my real husband and his real needs.
Also, I was inordinately turned on by the thought. Like, so instantly wet. So much so that it made me a little uncomfortable with my ability to make sound choices about this. What if he saw another man fucking me, that guy’s cock slipping between my folds (my flesh heated and wet not for my husband but for another stud) and my husband couldn’t handle it? What if it broke something irreversible in an otherwise amazing marriage?
M assured me that he was all in, that he loves me, that it doesn’t matter if we do it or not he will always love me. He told me that he did this cuckoldy thing with a girlfriend in college once, and it was mind-blowing, and he knows in a minor way what he’s getting himself into. Which are fine things to say now, before another man has sex with me, but what about after? What about the next morning when he stares at me, unable to unsee the horny fella between my pale legs, unable to clear the image of my breasts bouncing to the whim of that man’s thrusts? Would I look the same to him?
I want to explore this with him. I feel like I’ve just learned about a whole level of his desire. I thought this was a simple fantasy, not something he’d seriously want. I’m very glad he told me, and now the ball is in my court. An answer of ‘yes’ seems both unthinkable and super arousing, but ‘no’ seems like a wilty-flower kind of answer. Is this one of those twists that I will look back on when I’m ninety and regret not just doing it? I had opportunities in my past to engage in kinkiness that I passed on. I don’t have hard regrets about that, but some fleeting ones certainly haunt me.
“Would you be open to a threesome?” I asked. “You, me and another man?”
“Sure,” he said. “It’s not my fantasy, exactly, but I’d love to do it for you.”
“Huh,” I said, a little baffled by the whole thing. Because the threesome and moresome is a big fantasy for me.
“Or, if you like, you can have two guys and I’ll watch both of them fuck you,” he said.
“Now you’re just over-the-top,” I said, but suspected that he was totally serious, should such an arrangement even be feasible.
The next thing he said blew my mind.
“What I would really like would be to find a guy much bigger than me to fuck you.”
I thought I understood, but just to be clear: “By bigger you mean…”
“Bigger cock. I know you like that.”
I blushed and took his limp cock in my hand, started stroking it again. “You know I love your equipment, right? It’s the perfect tool for the job,” — I grinned — “the job being me, of course.”
“I know. I mean, I don’t feel inadequate. I want for you to have a guy who fills you up. I just want to see a big dick in your pussy. I honestly want to see a man fuck you better and more thoroughly than I could ever fuck you. Like, give you orgasms I could never give.”
I kissed him. “That’s sweet and probably impossible.” And now I was way turned on again.
After a while we went back to sixty-nine and I came again, and this time the sex really had to be done, I was getting sore and numb. But if not for that I would have kept going. The night had turned me over inside and I just wanted to keep plunging deeper. I sucked M until he was ready and let him masturbate on me, cumming on my small, freckled tits. There wasn’t much left in him but enough to make me feel like a dirty girl.
But not as dirty as I would feel with another man’s cock inside of me while my husband watched. I told him I would ponder it and we’ll see.