Paul's Birthday Present From My Wife - Her IUD
***Our First Bull***
I'd wanted this for so long: a hard young teenage dick for my wife. She laughed about it, didn't take me seriously. Called it my "frat-cock fantasy," or my "stunt-dick fetish."
Don't get me wrong, the idea of a younger, fitter stud didn't turn Meredith off; she could have fun with the thought, too. But it didn't obsess her as it did to me. I couldn't get it out of my mind, and as my 30th birthday receded in my rear-view mirror, it was more and more all-consuming.
She was approaching her own 30th as well, and we both saw "middle-age" lurking not very far off in the distance. Our sex wasn't terrible, but it was a bit stale, vanilla, after six years together. We'd each gotten to the point where maybe we closed our eyes and imagined a fantasy lover.
But my problem was that instead of dreaming that I was in bed with a hot 20-year-old partner, I was imagining Meredith was. When we made love it was me, not her, fantasizing that I was a barely legal frat-boy type banging the daylights out of my wife.
"The Big Three Oh" is a passage. Younger than that, your birthdays are milestones you enjoy. Can't drive until you're 16, vote like a grown-up at 18. At 21 you're all grown up. Your 20's pass in a blur, graduation, your first job, your first better job after you quit the first job. Marriage, maybe a kid of your own. It's all good, right? Each birthday a step towards more freedom, more open doors.
Until 30, and now that noise you hear is doors slamming closed. Too late to go back to grad school. You'll never be "single" again. Too late to relocate to your dream city, or change careers.
Once you pass 30, the walls feel like they're closing in. It may be a stereotype, but is bothers women more than men. A 29-year-old woman will hide it from her husband, but in private she's spending more time in front of the mirror. Looking for a grey hair, a wrinkle, a boob hinting it might soon sag. It was like magic how my wife got on board with my fetish as her 30th approached.
We had spoken to each other a few times about our vanilla bed behavior. Both of us believed and seemed to be living proof of that old saying about men peaking at 17 and women at 35. It had been years since I could go for a bedtime hat trick, and even double dribbles were getting to be a sometimes thing. Meredith, on the other hand, was turning more and more often to her Magic Wand for that elusive third orgasm she now considered her due. Sadly, she wasn't going to get there with me.
It wasn't only in the bedroom that I was starting to slow down. At the gym, where I'd played Tuesday hoops with the same gang for almost a decade, the teams got realigned last year to make up for my slowing down under the basket. Jesse joked that soon I'd have to switch to the Wednesday night "Senior" game. I pretended to think that was funny.
Finding a young guy to be our bull had been a vague dream of mine for years, but now I got serious. There are challenges inviting a young college guy into our bedroom, our marriage. There are plenty of horny and energetic men that would love to fuck a married woman. I mean, just Google MILF and stand back while your laptop explodes. (Whoops, I should have warned you not to do that at work!) And lots of these dudes wouldn't mind doing it in front of her husband. They would even enjoy it. They're drowning in testosterone and want the whole world to know it.
But I want someone that has enough of a head on his shoulders that he won't lose himself in our fantasy. He can't be so immature that he thinks there's a permanent place for him in our bedroom. I want someone ten years younger than Meredith to force her face down ass up, use her pussy like he owns it, and then to go away. Rotate her tires, change her oil, tune her up, and then let *me* drive her for a while. I don't plan to "share" her.
Playing with herself one night while talking dirty to me, Meredith came up with an elaboration on the fantasy that gave it a nudge to reality. She decided to make herself into a "birthday gift" for a 19-year-old guy turning 20. She found the perfect way to frame it to the guy: "I'm your birthday present. I'll make you feel like a man and you'll make me feel like a girl again." I was kind of stunned to watch her rubbing herself, mumbling variations of this, and soon orgasming without me. All right, I thought, let's do this thing. What could it hurt?
***Enter Paul***
We met him online, where his profile mentioned wanting a MILF. He plays baseball with one of the local universities, and he's going to college on an athletic scholarship. Perfect type of guy. His profile had the right balance of thirstiness and level-headedness that showed he had put some thought into becoming a bull. Some profiles seem written by a guy with a hard dick in his hand. Paul's profile read like he'd written it after cumming, so his mind was a bit clearer. It was a point in his favor. And he was 19, with a birthday next month!
A lot of posters immediately want to see nudes. They stopped responding to me once I made it clear we wouldn't share nudes. Most just want another porn pic for their collection. Paul obviously wanted that, but he had the presence of mind to play the long game. The guy we're looking for has to convince me that he's worth introducing to my wife.
I talked with him a bit, and he was willing to humor me. He took my questions seriously: what did he like about couples? Had he been with an older woman before? What were his fantasies? "Don't tell me what you think I want, tell me the dirty shit that you think about when jerking off but are hesitant to admit to girls because they might not be into it." He laughed at that one. A sense of humor is good.
Turns out Paul is a predator and has no shame in it. He likes the hunt, and he likes convincing sorority girls to be his slut and do things they didn't expect they'd be into. He doesn't pressure them or liquor them up. I got that much out of him when I made him clarify. There's no fun it for him if they feel uncomfortable or don't want to be kinky with him. He needs them to want it and need it. He likes virgins who will be a project to seduce, and slightly older classmates who have passed through Freshman crazy and now only give their pussy to guys who seem worth it.
And he urged us to choose him by sending me some nudes he took of himself. "No pressure, Jules. Meredith doesn't want to see herself on some internet revenge porn site. I get it. But show her what I've got to offer, OK?" He liked showing off. He wanted to be a dominant assertive "top".
"It's my time, Jules," Paul said to me. "I'm almost 20. I won't be a teenager anymore. I'm a man now, and I'm tired of fucking girls. I want to dick down my first real woman." He certainly had the equipment to dick down anybody he wanted.
Meredith and I talked it over, and I repeated what he'd said and showed her his dick pics. She told me to give her to him for a night, and then she took me to bed and just exhausted me.
I didn't tell her everything, though.
"You let your old lady have me and she'll feel like a kid again, Jules. That's what she wants, right? I'm young and hung, your fantasy boy in the flesh. But I think I know what you want, too, old man. I won't be done with her until she's done with you. You're too old for her already, right? Slowing down a bit these days, huh Old Man?"
That all happened two weeks ago.
***Her Gift Unwraps Her***
Right now, I'm standing in the doorway to our kitchen watching Paul fuck Meredith over the kitchen sink. And dear lord, they were gorgeous together. He had tight muscles with just a bit more fat than a bodybuilder might have. His cock was thicker than mine, and Meredith was enjoying it. I fill her vagina nicely when we fuck, but he was stretching her further than she'd been stretched in years.
Paul was supporting almost all of her weight, one arm wrapped around her hips and the other snaking up her torso to wrap around her throat. He had his lips to her ear and was whispering to her as he pounded her cunt.
I could hear bits and pieces but wasn't allowed to get closer. He'd made it clear that when he was inside Meredith, she was his. I needed to watch and not distract them. He didn't want me close, but he wanted me to listen as he took my wife from me. I was hard as I'd ever been, watching him master Meredith from across the room.
He'd told me where to stand, and ordered me to be naked. "When you watch your old ***** take my big dick, I want you to see your little thing." I wasn't little, but he was much bigger.
He started speaking a little louder as his thrusts got more intense. "I love the first few times I fuck a new bitch. I break her in; make sure she knows who owns her. Just because you're married doesn't change that, Meredith." He said her name slowly, three syllables, each punctuated with a thrust of his hard cock. "Meh," "Rih," "Deth." Bang, bang, bang.
"In fact, it means I need to mark you more, make you real used to my cock." He pinched and twisted her nipples and chewed the flesh at the base of her neck. She bucked back against him as she moaned. I'd never seen her like this. Her whole body was twitching and jerking, out of control. Sweat glistened on her and her awesome, gym-toned muscles rippled under her skin.
"Tell me how much you like it, you old bag." He continued to play to our age gap fetish. "You're disgusting. You'll be collecting Social Security soon and you're fucking a teenager? You're almost a fucking child molester. Pump your pussy, slut. Squeeze my young cock. Shit, I'm barely legal, and you're so horned up."
"Jules," he called towards me, "her tired old cunt is a fucking swamp. I don't think she's ever been properly fucked."
She groaned and pushed her hips back. She was in another world. I wasn't sure she could even see me, her eyes were rolled up so high in her head. They were two perfect specimens, each in their sexual prime, showing me a better fuck than I would ever again experience myself. She loved every bit of her older lady younger stud fantasy fuck.
He was right about the swamp part, too. Light reflected off of the cunt drippings that drenched both her thighs and ran down the full length of her legs. Paul was literally fucking my wife to the point that she was standing in a puddle of her own vaginal secretions.
Her eyes tried to find me, and then just as quickly turned away in shame and delight. She was moaning like a barn animal. "God, I love it. It feels so good, Paul." It made her feel so guilty to stare at me and tell me how much better he felt. And her guilt just tightened her cunt muscles, clenching his hot cock inside her.
He bit her ear and picked up his pace for a good twenty seconds, banging her over the counter. He looked down at her like a prized possession, running his hand up her back slowly as he fucked her from behind. His hand gripped her hip hard, settling into the curve of her hip.
She braced herself against the wall with one hand, the other gripping his wrist tightly. Her mouth wide open as he took her breath away. She was drooling, too excited sexually even to swallow. Her tits were shiny with her saliva in the harsh overhead light. Paul was fucking her to death and she was seeping fluids uncontrollable at both ends.
He gripped her hair and pulled her up sharply, slowing his pace and grinding into her. "Here it comes, Meredith. Your first load. When I cum I like to picture my bitch pregnant. Your baby bump is going to look real nice after I breed you."
She groaned and started grinding her hips in a circle against him, turning her head to kiss him. "Fill me, Paul. Cum inside me." She panted, out of breath. "I need it."
He moved his arms, reached down between her thighs, then spread them out wide, and lifted her into the wheelbarrow position. He could bang her even harder now, and the slapping of his muscled pelvis and her meaty ass cheeks was loud, clear across the room.
He played to our fantasy. "Take my teen dick, you old *****. Married and horny, aren't you, Bitch? Your tired old husband can't fuck you like this anymore, can he? Did he ever?"
And with that he pulled her to him, his hands squeezing her breasts painfully, lighting her fuse, and buried himself deep inside her as he came.
I watched incredulously, with a mixture of jealousy and burning arousal, as a man ten years younger than me inseminated my wife. He held her like he owned her. Primal and strong. A predator claiming his prey. Her head and torso sagging in exhaustion on the countertop, her legs still around him, no part of the fuck-slut I married touching the floor.
They were both panting, chest heaving as they came down from their high. He bit her ear again, and she turned her head. They kissed, hard, her hips rocking unconsciously against his softening cock. I knew now, if not earlier, that this was not going to be a one-time thing for them. Meredith was going to need regular servicing from now on.
I heard him growl softly as she did. He whispered something in her ear that I couldn't hear. He stepped back and let his cock slip from her pussy, still mostly hard, glistening with a mixture of his and her cum. She collapsed forward onto the counter, and he lowered her legs, still spread to the messy floor. The gleaming of the light off of her upper thighs diminished slightly as his thick white ejaculate lost the fight with gravity.
He looked at me and grinned. "Ready to say thank you, Jules? Give me the rest of my birthday present?"
I gulped and caught my breath. This was it. I'd just been cucked by a man, a boy really, ten years younger than me. I made eye contact with Meredith and could see the excitement in her eyes, biting her lip slightly as she recovered.
***Cleanup On Aisle 29***
Yesterday Meredith and I had talked about this part, just the two of us. Would I be the kind of cuck who cleaned up? She was the one who suggested it to me. I'd resisted, she'd insisted. "It's an important part of my dream, Jules. The younger man claiming my middle-age vagina. Him taking me, mating with me. Animal sex. My old husband endorsing my rejuvenation."
Like many guys, I had tasted my own cum after masturbating when I was young and single. More than tasted, to tell you the truth – I whacked off into condoms and then gobbled my whole load. Meredith knew a little of this because we'd shared a zillion secrets when we were dating and beginning our sexual explorations.
"All those cuckold and swapping videos we're looked at have the husband cleaning his wife. If you loved me…." And that was the end of the bargaining. She'd played the "If you love me…." Card and it trumps all the other cards. At least it does when you're married. So when we had sex last night, she queened my face and stayed on me until I brought her to a second orgasm.
As soon as I had given in to her, and eaten her dirty pussy last night, she moved the goalposts. Before Paul had set foot in our house Meredith had gotten me reluctantly to agree to clean *him*, too. And she did it on her own. I mean, it sounds like something a porn-addled young dude would imagine, but there it was in my wife's head, making her husband submit to her lover and suck cock.
"And *that* wouldn't make you think less of me? Less of a man to you," I had asked her. I really didn't imagine taking this sex adventure that far.
She stared silently at me until I filled the silence.
"If I suck his penis you might not ever look at me the same," I worried out loud. Damn right I worried. That's why I'd never told her about my college roommate.
Silence, just that stare, waiting for me to put the pieces together for myself.
Awareness came slowly for me. "Meredith, you don't *want* to look at me the same, do you? You want Paul to be the man, and I'll be m something less?"
That beautiful face. I loved this woman so much. "That's what you want? Me on my knees in front of a young stud?"
Silence.
"OK. I'll do this for you." No need to tell her how many times I'd done it before. I thought I'd given up cock-sucking when I got married. No reason to deny her this if she wanted to insist.
I've never seen such a smile. Women are so much more intuitive than men. She knew what I didn't. She knew that way down deep inside, when I had first agreed to let her fuck a teenage stud, I was giving it up. Sucking cock would just symbolize who I was going to be from now on. I had resigned the position of Head Man when I had offered her a better cock to play with. A little cock play with Paul wasn't going to change anything, because everything was already changed.
She said, "I want to make him a man for his birthday. And I want him to make me like a girl again for mine. And I think I want him to make you a boy for me."
***
So now I moved forward and sank to my knees, eye level with the cock that had just made me into a cuck. Our bull's cock.
I looked up at him, and he grinned, putting his hand on my head possessively. He would be 20 next week. I leaned forward, tipping my chin up, and their scent flooded my senses. I knew Meredith's smell well, but it was mixed with him so deeply. I breathed it in deeply, and I kissed the head of his cock.
"Thank you for fucking my wife." Meredith had been specific that before cleaning him I should thank him. Part of the "being a boy thing."
I breathed like a bitch in heat. I lifted my mouth and took in his cockhead. Tastes and smells filled me as I felt his girth push my mouth further open. He tasted amazing, like cunt. I pushed about half of his cock into my mouth, and I heard him moan slightly. I sucked, swirling the fat head of his cock with my tongue, as I pulled my mouth off of him. I moved my head further toward his body, closing my mouth around the thinner shaft of his cock, desperate to lick him clean of my wife's cum.
His cum too, to be honest. It felt good to serve a better man like this. It wasn't just the age thing that made him my better. He was younger, stronger, more vital at 20 than I now was at 30. But let's be honest – I'd never had a cock like this, and he'd be more of a man at age 60 than I am now or ever was. I pulled back until only the wide crown of his cock was in my mouth, pursed my lips, and nibbled on his penis.
Then I lifted his dick with my nose and dragged my tongue up the underside of his cock. I licked his hot balls and then took him back into my mouth. His cock was slowly deflating, making it easier to engulf him entirely. I sucked hard as I pulled off his cock, cleaning him like the good boy I was. I lifted his cock with my nose and cleaned my wife's pussy juice off of his balls, focusing on getting every bit from him.
After a few seconds, he pulled my hair back and turned me to face Meredith. She sat on the kitchen counter now, her legs spread, her pussy swollen and red. Her fingers played with her clit as she studied me with a hard stare. Her face was consumed with lust as she watched me service our bull. Looking down at me. Looking down *on* me. The first time she saw me suck cock. The last time she saw me as her equal.
"She needs cleaning up more than I do. If you don't hurry up, her first kid will be mine." My wife and I of course used birth control, but she had an IUD because she couldn't take the pill and all its hormones. IUDs are 99% effective. I thought about that missing 1% just then. We'd asked Paul to talk up the "breeding" thing when they fucked. We hadn't told him that he might, in fact, fertilize Meredith. He thought "birth control" meant she was bullet-proof. It was part of the thrill Meredith and I were enjoying that we knew she wasn't.
Paul squatted down next to me and spoke quietly in my ear. "I saved all of that cum for her, Jules. Since you two made me give up my other bitches, my balls have been full. I dumped it all into her. You'll have to work hard to stop me from breeding her." And with that, he pushed me towards my love's pussy.
She was a mess, and cum was already dripping down her thighs. Her finger still played with her clit as she bit her lip and looked down at me, not saying a word, a harder stare than I was used to.
I licked up her thighs, eating Paul's cum as I went. She moaned, knowing I was becoming something new. Paul had briefly made her a girl again, as she had hoped, a hot sorority chick for an hour. But Paul had made me something new also. I was younger too. I was just a boy now to Meredith, not really a man anymore. I watched myself shrink in her hard eyes. For the first time, I had a doubt about the wisdom of all this. Even if Paul didn't "take" Meredith, was I losing her?
I slowly dragged my tongue higher, to her pussy, and set my whole mouth over it, licking and eating the mess left for me. My face was covered with fluids, and I could smell it, overwhelming my senses. I felt globs of Paul's cum exit her and slither onto my tongue, and I moaned, my hand going to my cock as I started jerking off. It tasted salty and slimy and amazing since it came from her. I planted my lips around her pussy and opened her up with my tongue, desperately cleaning her of our bull's cum. Not her bull, our bull.
He'd filled her so completely it surprised me. It was unreal. I'd never come this much, and it's why I wanted her to have younger guys like him. He really had saved all of this cum just for her. Well, and now for me.
I ate her with abandon, craving her approval. I kept eye contact with her the whole time, trying with all my might to get as much seed from her as possible. Maybe if I gave her an orgasm now it would even the score a little?
I could feel his hand against my head as he pushed me further into her mound, leaning forward himself to kiss her and grab her hair and attention.
He left it to me, the cuckold, to eat his cum out of my wife. He relaxed and kissed his new bitch while her husband submissively ate his seed from her cunt.
Not able to help myself, I turned and slipped his cock into my mouth, determined to make him hard again for her. He had more fuck in him, and Meredith wanted all he had. He was already harder than he'd been a few moments ago when he'd first made me a cock sucker. I was already having trouble fitting him in my mouth.
They broke their kiss and glanced down at me. He chuckled, speaking, "Your husband wants to get me going again, Meredith. He's pretty good at this, too. He's done this before." Paul may not yet have turned 20, but he could tell a talented cocksucker from a beginner. I wasn't his first rodeo.
Then, to me, "I'm not your first dick, am I Julie? First-timers don't do that nibble thing like you do. How many cocks did you blow before you married Meredith?"
I almost came right then, when he called me "Julie". My roommate in college used to call me "Julie" when he made me blow him. A shiver went through me as I remembered wearing lipstick for him. And the brassiere, I'd almost forgotten wearing the bra. Lipstick and a bra and a girl's name and he could pretend I was a woman and that he wasn't gay.
"Well, Meredith, no rest for you, slut. Let's saddle up again. Or else maybe the old man wants to keep your new cock to himself for a while."
"He'll have to wait. Watching the geezer suck your cock has me so turned on. Can we do it in our bed now?"
I felt a hand at the back of my head again as he pushed into my throat. I pulled off a bit and glanced up, seeing the two of them kissing, her sitting on the counter, his fingers in her pussy and thumb on her clit. I could feel him grow in my mouth and precum ooze out onto my tongue.
This was the cock that was going to fuck Meredith again, and I was getting it ready.
Our young lover helped my wife off of the counter and led her by the hand to our marital bed. He spent the night, and in the morning Meredith asked me to make breakfast while they showered together.
An hour later he kissed Meredith goodbye at our front door, and then he turned to me and surprised me by pulling me in for a bro hug. Then he was gone, and it felt like all the energy had just left the apartment.
As she walked slowly back to the table she said, without even turning her head to face me, "That was the best birthday present you ever gave me, Jules. Thank you for doing that."
Then, finally turning to face me as she sipped her coffee she added, "He'll be back Friday night."
I'd wanted this for so long.
***Our Second Session With Paul***
Meredith talked about Paul every night that week, whether we were having sex or not. Although we mostly were; she was insatiable.
Tuesday night, when I was all fucked out and struggling to stay erect long enough for her, she stuck her finger in my butt "because I read about this in a magazine."
It helped, and Wednesday night she used a skinny little vibrator she owned – it was advertised as "purse-size, take me anywhere." I'm pretty sure I couldn't have stayed hard enough to give her that second fuck that night if it hadn't been for the anal stimulation of her toy.
And while I labored away she taunted me a little bit, saying "small enough to go anywhere" described my cock. I stewed in humiliation knowing that, since Paul had arrived on the scene, I would forevermore be "the smaller cock."
Paul spent most of the next weekend in our bed. Oh, of course, they got up to eat or watch some TV, but they never got dressed and never left the apartment. Five or six times he or Meredith would call me in and ask me to "clean them up," which I did without complaint.
And mostly with enthusiasm. I always enjoyed oral sex on my wife; now that I was "the smaller cock" it was clear that my mouth was going to be my main connection to Meredith as long as Paul was in the house.
Or maybe even when he wasn't. Saturday night, after almost 24 hours in our bed, Paul told Meredith that he wanted her to himself. He showed her a small male chastity device – a cock cage – and suggested to her that she "symbolize" the exclusive relationship he wanted with her by locking me away whenever she wanted.
You'll have a hard time believing this, but at first, I didn't mind. I knew with him present I was not going to be having regular sex with my wife, and the device didn't hurt. In fact, it was vaguely pleasant, a constant touching and rubbing of my dick and balls. It did hurt the few times I started to get erect, which was whenever I was allowed to clean Paul's cock of Meredith's juices. But even that hurt was fleeting because my erection swiftly quashed itself.
Sunday afternoon he unlocked me and told us that he wanted me to have "one last fuck" with Meredith before she locked me up for the week. I was excited at the thought of once again having sex with my wife but worried about his apparent plan to lock my penis in its new cage for five days.
Meredith looked even more lovely to me the more I had enjoyed the opportunity to watch her in Paul's embraces. As I crawled between her legs to begin with an oral wetting of her vulva, my penis was throbbing and fully erect. But when I began to slither up her body to take her properly, I became a little creeped out by Paul's stares at our union. I began to lose my erection.
Instead of mocking me as I feared, Paul was instead encouraging both of us. He suggested to Meredith that she reach around she tickle my anus with her finger. For some reason, she didn't mention to him that she played with my rectum all week. He almost sounded clinical as he explained to her that all men loved a little butt play, what with having a prostate and everything. She shot me a quick private look and moved her finger anywhere near my asshole.
Paul got impatient, reached for the KY on the side table, and quite gently began to finger me himself. I was ready for pain and insult, but Paul was quite tender and encouraging, keeping up a patter that was all about getting me hard for Meredith. At first, he tried only to pop my ring open with the tip of his pointer finger, and he was generous with the lubricant. Not only was he not hurting me, but to my surprise, my cock inflated like a cheap balloon.
I was surprised, but not really unhappy, when he continued to finger me even while I made love to Meredith. His comments were all about my being a cuckold – "come on Paul, fuck your own wife or I will" – and not about our ass-play. I found it easy to relax, focus on the best fuck I'd had for weeks, and go along with whatever he wanted. I barely noticed when he started a gentle corkscrew motion with two fingers inserted.
Meredith was responding more and more visibly to my thrusting. I began to imagine the possibility that I could bring us both to orgasm together. It seemed to me as if it had been many months since that had happened.
Her legs wrapped tightly around my thighs and her heels dug in alongside my knees. She began opening her thighs wider to me, pulling her legs apart so I could plunge even deeper into her now juicy cunt. I was beginning to lose control, and my hips were slamming into hers almost hard enough to hurt.
Her legs widening pulled mine apart also, and as my buttocks spread wider Paul's fingers had more room for pulling and twisting. Out of my sight, he had prepared his own large shaft with KY, too, and as soon as he changed positions it only took him two or three seconds to pop the fat head of his iron-hard cock into the mouth of my anus.
I went rigid and jerked my body as if I was being electrocuted. Meredith had of course known what Paul's plans for me were, and her arms held me tightly against her chest as I tried to escape my fate. Paul was much stronger than I was, and it soon became clear to me that I was not going to slip their embraces.
Meredith's soft lips murmured gentler encouragement into my left ear, "It's OK, darling. Relax and hold me. It's going to be fine. Really. Push out. Pretend you want to fart and push out. Sweet baby. Let it go, honey."
Paul's stubble was against my right ear giving me slightly different advice, "Take it, you pussy. Take a real cock. Don't pretend you're a man anymore. You gave me your wife, you sad little fuck. Now you're giving me your ass. Bitch."
There was surprisingly little pain, but a great deal of discomfort. I felt full, as if I was being inflated. Then a gentle slide out, and the pressure disappeared. A little more lube, another inch deeper this time. Out slowly, in slowly. Each cycle my ass gave up another inch of itself to Paul's insistence. He never did bottom out in me; I just wasn't big enough to take all of him, and it really did hurt when he bumped into whatever it was that prevented deeper plunges.
"How is that now, Julie?" my wife crooned in my ear. Now you know, huh? What it feels like for me to get fucked."
"Don't call me that, Meredith," I began to complain, but she shushed me to be quiet.
"It's fine, honey. Getting fucked is better than fucking, right? I never wanted to be a man, with all those cock size issues and performance obligations. I never worry if my pussy is the right size, or if I can get an erection, or if I'll cum too soon. You poor men, with all that baggage. Men are so fucked up. We just open our legs and fuck and fuck and there is nothing to worry about. We don't even have to move unless we want to, you horny boys will do all the pumping for us, right? Feel it, honey? It's OK, right? Getting fucked by a hot man? I was always happy I get to take cock. Is Paul pleasing you, Julie?"
He was.
She made sense, I thought. This was sex without worries. I relaxed even more, and as my glutes gave up the last of their struggle Paul got one more half-inch of cock into me.
I struggled now with keeping a rhythm, getting my hips right. It was hard to time my thrusts into Meredith with Paul's thrusts into me. I was mostly bumping into both of them, doing the wrong motion at the wrong time.
"Let me drive, Jules," Paul said in my ear. "You just stay still. I'll pump you, and you pump the *****, and I'll set the pace, OK little man?"
And as I relaxed, as I gave up the last shred of control, I heard my wife, "He's right, Julie. He'll fuck us both by fucking you. Let Paul take over, just enjoy that cock up your asspussy. He's so much better at this than you are."
And my cock had never been harder! It was inside Meredith, where it always belonged, and maybe we could still cum together. I tried to gauge her progress but suddenly it was all too much for me. Meredith held my head to her breast, stroked my hair, and pulled her legs far apart. Paul snarled something about making me pregnant and I shot my wad so far into Meredith that it might never come out.
Paul came next, flooding my rectum with his sperm. And Meredith didn't cum at all, but she still sang in my ear "It's alright, Julie. You enjoyed that more than I did. And Paul will never run out of cock for me. Well, for us, right? It's fine."
I'd wanted this for so long. And after we all showered, as we said goodnight at the front door, Paul left after making a big ceremony out of locking my penis back in its cage and giving Meredith the key.
***Four's A Crowd***
Paul's third visit with us was the weekend of Meredith's 30th birthday. I hogged her for myself Friday night and took her to a nice restaurant for a four-course meal. Then we relaxed for two hours at her favorite jazz club nearby. I know very little about jazz, but my wife has been a serious fan since she was in high school.
We shared a tender and romantic "date night" and for just a few hours, we had turned back the clock and could almost make-believe our marriage was new, and exciting, and would last forever. That evening after Meredith unlocked my chastity device we had slow, romantic sex and never mentioned Meredith's new stud. I had no trouble maintaining my erection for her but was struggling to reach my climax. Finally, I asked her to finger me a little and I eventually blew my load as my anus spasmed and nibbled her fingertip. A quick shower and my jewels – yes, I'd heard 'Jules' jewels' jokes all my life – were back in captivity, locked up tight until Meredith or Paul set them free.
Paul had promised to bring in dinner for us Saturday night. He arrived at about 7:00 with a delicious Persian spread with lamb kabobs, sautéed chicken, and two kinds of rice. He also brought a friend named Roger, and when my wife greeted him by name, "Roger, we're so happy you could come with Paul," I realized I'd been left out of the loop on purpose.
Paul took command of the situation right away. "Jules, you come help me spread this out in the kitchen. No work tonight for the birthday girl, right? Roger, keep the guest of honor company for a few minutes. Enjoy getting to know each other. Jules and I will bring your drinks in a minute after we see to the food."
And just like that, Paul was in charge. He assigned me kitchen tasks as if it was his kitchen. He told me what to plate and what to rewarm. I was in such a fog that I thought he was going to wear the apron he asked me for, but of course he told me to put it on, and to bring the two glasses of wine I poured to "the other couple."
Meredith made quite a thing over eyeballing my apron while Roger grinned at me. Then she ordered me to turn around so that she could "tie it properly in the back." I was blushing furiously when I returned as quickly as I was allowed to the kitchen.
Strangely, the whole scene in the living room was so unexpected and stressful that I was relieved to be back in the kitchen with Paul. It was my "safe place" and the other room was now a danger zone. As I set the serving tray down on the counter and turned to Paul he stepped forward, gave me a hug, and said "Good job, Julie."
Then he put some snacks on the tray, handed it to me, turned me around, and with a gentle pat on my ass sent me back into enemy territory. Maybe if I had cleared my throat they would have stopped, but when I entered the room I found Roger and Meredith making out like teenagers on the sofa. Well, Roger probably was a teenager, and Meredith was trying to be one again, so I should have expected it I guess. Roger didn't even remove his hand from my wife's breast as he told me to set down the food and "give us some privacy."
When I reentered the kitchen this time I was twice as flustered and lost. What kind of a night was this going to be? Paul had watched the whole scene from the kitchen doorway and when I came back to him he opened his arms and I guess I kind of threw myself into his embrace. No bro hug this time, he squeezed me tightly and I returned his emotion.
He danced me back into the kitchen and guided us towards the dinette chairs. Without releasing me he sat down in one of the chairs, which meant that he was now hugging my hips, not my shoulders. He pulled the key to my cage from his pocket, reached under my apron, and took off my pants and boxers which puddled at my ankles.
"You should be free tonight, Julie," he said to me, and I was too happy about the cage to complain yet again about the girly name. I decided to let it go, the name thing. Paul would decide when I am "Jules" and when I am "Julie," and I would behave accordingly. The only thing that mattered was keeping Meredith happy. While he fumbled with my penis prison I turned my head to see the other room.
Roger was sitting back, his trousers at his ankles, like me, and my wife was on her knees in front of him sucking his erect cock. Paul stood up now and led me by my cock into the other room. As we approached the sofa he said "Roger, it's time you got to know Meredith's husband. Here, you hold him for a while. My slut needs to be fucked or she'll never eat her dinner."
Meredith half-way turned her head to Paul and quickly resumed what she was doing. Paul stripped completely naked and knelt behind her to fuck her like a dog. She moaned as Paul sheathed his dick into her pussy, but she never stopped blowing Roger who in turn never let go of my erection under my apron.
The food got cold as the two college studs spit-roasted my wife while I watched impotently. They bantered back and forth about the *****, and the fag, and how needy we were, and how happy they were to fuck us. The dirty talk, the humiliation, and the sights, sounds, and smells of my wife's dream-come-true kept me on the edge of an orgasm of my own.
Roger twisted the apron out of the way when Paul told him to "see what a little cock this guy has." He laughed at me and said something to Meredith about her bad choice of husbands. She moaned louder and started to spiral her mouth around Roger's much-larger cock.
Paul had her hips in his hands and was pounding her forcefully. "Pace yourself, bro," he said to his friend. "This needy ***** can fuck all night. I know. Save that load for something more memorable than a blow job. Wanna have sloppy seconds? Or maybe her ass?" Paul felt her cunt muscles clench tightly on his dick when she trembled at the idea.
Roger actually looked puzzled, like this was going to require thought. He let go of my erection and told me to go fetch some lube. Then, changing his mind I guess, he followed me into the bedroom. He stood in the doorway and watched me take the KY from the dresser.
"You look like a fairy in that apron. Let me see you put on a pair of slut's panties. I want to dress you up a little."
I found pair of briefs but he said "something skimpier," and I held up pone pair after another for his approval. Then, when I put on the pair he wanted, the head of my cock stuck up in the front and he ordered me to tuck myself beneath my crotch and squeeze everything in.
"Turn around. Let me see how sissy you look." I slowly turned all the way around and he ordered me to put on a bra. Once I did, he brought me back out into the living room where Meredith was sobbing and whimpering.
Paul had moved her forward and her head and shoulders were now face down in the cushion. His hands reached underneath her and pulled and twisted her nipples savagely. Her B-cup breasts were being pulled away from her body and it looked more painful than pleasant.
There were red marks on her buttocks that looked like bites, not palm prints. They were explained in a minute when he began beating her ass cheeks with the back of his flicked fingertips. Reach up. Bring arm and hand down fast. Flick wrist so the back of fingertips sting the meat. Each hit was like a knife stabbing her ass.
Tears streamed down her cheeks and she groaned how much she loved what he was doing. "Fuck me like I'm a stuck-up cheerleader cock-teaser," she groaned. "Teach me who's boss." I had never seen this side of my wife's sexuality. I had never known her to enjoy pain.
"I got another cheerleader over here, Paul," Roger said, and Paul leered at me while banging the shit out of my wife. Meredith was facing away from me so Paul jerked her head around with a vicious tug of her hair.
"Too ugly," Meredith managed to croak. "Hairy legs, no tits. She's a Booster, maybe a Pom. Girls like her don't tease; they fuck everybody on the team. Put some lipstick on her and she'll look better." Jesus, was this my wife?
"Go," Roger said, spinning me back towards the bedroom. Put on some lipstick and get you cunt back out here."
I might have done a better job if I'd taken my time, but I needed to get back to watch Paul destroy Meredith. They all chuckled when I came back so quickly, and with such a sloppy job.
"Julie, get over here on your knees," Paul said. I was sure Roger would sit in front of me again, and I would suck him again, but I was wrong. Paul withdrew his throbbing erection from Meredith and told Roger to "finish her off." He took the KY, greased my hole by inserting not one but two fingers right at the start, and soon had me drooling as his fingers banged into my prostate.
And just like that, less than two minutes after Julie entered the room, Paul was slamming his cock into my ass as I knelt next to my delirious wife. Roger had resumed the nipple torture and the butt slapping, and Paul twisted my man boobs, too.
Meredith turned her face towards me and asked for a kiss. We swapped tongues, and spit, as we rocked side by side half-on the sofa. She pulled away, gave me a strange, piercing look, and then said loudly, to the boys, "I'd like Paul to finish in me. Roger, would you be an angel and fuck Julie instead? I took out my birth control last week and I think I want Paul to breed me for my birthday. Well, and for his, too."
Then, to me, "It's going to be your birthday present to the both of us."
***Our First Bull***
I'd wanted this for so long: a hard young teenage dick for my wife. She laughed about it, didn't take me seriously. Called it my "frat-cock fantasy," or my "stunt-dick fetish."
Don't get me wrong, the idea of a younger, fitter stud didn't turn Meredith off; she could have fun with the thought, too. But it didn't obsess her as it did to me. I couldn't get it out of my mind, and as my 30th birthday receded in my rear-view mirror, it was more and more all-consuming.
She was approaching her own 30th as well, and we both saw "middle-age" lurking not very far off in the distance. Our sex wasn't terrible, but it was a bit stale, vanilla, after six years together. We'd each gotten to the point where maybe we closed our eyes and imagined a fantasy lover.
But my problem was that instead of dreaming that I was in bed with a hot 20-year-old partner, I was imagining Meredith was. When we made love it was me, not her, fantasizing that I was a barely legal frat-boy type banging the daylights out of my wife.
"The Big Three Oh" is a passage. Younger than that, your birthdays are milestones you enjoy. Can't drive until you're 16, vote like a grown-up at 18. At 21 you're all grown up. Your 20's pass in a blur, graduation, your first job, your first better job after you quit the first job. Marriage, maybe a kid of your own. It's all good, right? Each birthday a step towards more freedom, more open doors.
Until 30, and now that noise you hear is doors slamming closed. Too late to go back to grad school. You'll never be "single" again. Too late to relocate to your dream city, or change careers.
Once you pass 30, the walls feel like they're closing in. It may be a stereotype, but is bothers women more than men. A 29-year-old woman will hide it from her husband, but in private she's spending more time in front of the mirror. Looking for a grey hair, a wrinkle, a boob hinting it might soon sag. It was like magic how my wife got on board with my fetish as her 30th approached.
We had spoken to each other a few times about our vanilla bed behavior. Both of us believed and seemed to be living proof of that old saying about men peaking at 17 and women at 35. It had been years since I could go for a bedtime hat trick, and even double dribbles were getting to be a sometimes thing. Meredith, on the other hand, was turning more and more often to her Magic Wand for that elusive third orgasm she now considered her due. Sadly, she wasn't going to get there with me.
It wasn't only in the bedroom that I was starting to slow down. At the gym, where I'd played Tuesday hoops with the same gang for almost a decade, the teams got realigned last year to make up for my slowing down under the basket. Jesse joked that soon I'd have to switch to the Wednesday night "Senior" game. I pretended to think that was funny.
Finding a young guy to be our bull had been a vague dream of mine for years, but now I got serious. There are challenges inviting a young college guy into our bedroom, our marriage. There are plenty of horny and energetic men that would love to fuck a married woman. I mean, just Google MILF and stand back while your laptop explodes. (Whoops, I should have warned you not to do that at work!) And lots of these dudes wouldn't mind doing it in front of her husband. They would even enjoy it. They're drowning in testosterone and want the whole world to know it.
But I want someone that has enough of a head on his shoulders that he won't lose himself in our fantasy. He can't be so immature that he thinks there's a permanent place for him in our bedroom. I want someone ten years younger than Meredith to force her face down ass up, use her pussy like he owns it, and then to go away. Rotate her tires, change her oil, tune her up, and then let *me* drive her for a while. I don't plan to "share" her.
Playing with herself one night while talking dirty to me, Meredith came up with an elaboration on the fantasy that gave it a nudge to reality. She decided to make herself into a "birthday gift" for a 19-year-old guy turning 20. She found the perfect way to frame it to the guy: "I'm your birthday present. I'll make you feel like a man and you'll make me feel like a girl again." I was kind of stunned to watch her rubbing herself, mumbling variations of this, and soon orgasming without me. All right, I thought, let's do this thing. What could it hurt?
***Enter Paul***
We met him online, where his profile mentioned wanting a MILF. He plays baseball with one of the local universities, and he's going to college on an athletic scholarship. Perfect type of guy. His profile had the right balance of thirstiness and level-headedness that showed he had put some thought into becoming a bull. Some profiles seem written by a guy with a hard dick in his hand. Paul's profile read like he'd written it after cumming, so his mind was a bit clearer. It was a point in his favor. And he was 19, with a birthday next month!
A lot of posters immediately want to see nudes. They stopped responding to me once I made it clear we wouldn't share nudes. Most just want another porn pic for their collection. Paul obviously wanted that, but he had the presence of mind to play the long game. The guy we're looking for has to convince me that he's worth introducing to my wife.
I talked with him a bit, and he was willing to humor me. He took my questions seriously: what did he like about couples? Had he been with an older woman before? What were his fantasies? "Don't tell me what you think I want, tell me the dirty shit that you think about when jerking off but are hesitant to admit to girls because they might not be into it." He laughed at that one. A sense of humor is good.
Turns out Paul is a predator and has no shame in it. He likes the hunt, and he likes convincing sorority girls to be his slut and do things they didn't expect they'd be into. He doesn't pressure them or liquor them up. I got that much out of him when I made him clarify. There's no fun it for him if they feel uncomfortable or don't want to be kinky with him. He needs them to want it and need it. He likes virgins who will be a project to seduce, and slightly older classmates who have passed through Freshman crazy and now only give their pussy to guys who seem worth it.
And he urged us to choose him by sending me some nudes he took of himself. "No pressure, Jules. Meredith doesn't want to see herself on some internet revenge porn site. I get it. But show her what I've got to offer, OK?" He liked showing off. He wanted to be a dominant assertive "top".
"It's my time, Jules," Paul said to me. "I'm almost 20. I won't be a teenager anymore. I'm a man now, and I'm tired of fucking girls. I want to dick down my first real woman." He certainly had the equipment to dick down anybody he wanted.
Meredith and I talked it over, and I repeated what he'd said and showed her his dick pics. She told me to give her to him for a night, and then she took me to bed and just exhausted me.
I didn't tell her everything, though.
"You let your old lady have me and she'll feel like a kid again, Jules. That's what she wants, right? I'm young and hung, your fantasy boy in the flesh. But I think I know what you want, too, old man. I won't be done with her until she's done with you. You're too old for her already, right? Slowing down a bit these days, huh Old Man?"
That all happened two weeks ago.
***Her Gift Unwraps Her***
Right now, I'm standing in the doorway to our kitchen watching Paul fuck Meredith over the kitchen sink. And dear lord, they were gorgeous together. He had tight muscles with just a bit more fat than a bodybuilder might have. His cock was thicker than mine, and Meredith was enjoying it. I fill her vagina nicely when we fuck, but he was stretching her further than she'd been stretched in years.
Paul was supporting almost all of her weight, one arm wrapped around her hips and the other snaking up her torso to wrap around her throat. He had his lips to her ear and was whispering to her as he pounded her cunt.
I could hear bits and pieces but wasn't allowed to get closer. He'd made it clear that when he was inside Meredith, she was his. I needed to watch and not distract them. He didn't want me close, but he wanted me to listen as he took my wife from me. I was hard as I'd ever been, watching him master Meredith from across the room.
He'd told me where to stand, and ordered me to be naked. "When you watch your old ***** take my big dick, I want you to see your little thing." I wasn't little, but he was much bigger.
He started speaking a little louder as his thrusts got more intense. "I love the first few times I fuck a new bitch. I break her in; make sure she knows who owns her. Just because you're married doesn't change that, Meredith." He said her name slowly, three syllables, each punctuated with a thrust of his hard cock. "Meh," "Rih," "Deth." Bang, bang, bang.
"In fact, it means I need to mark you more, make you real used to my cock." He pinched and twisted her nipples and chewed the flesh at the base of her neck. She bucked back against him as she moaned. I'd never seen her like this. Her whole body was twitching and jerking, out of control. Sweat glistened on her and her awesome, gym-toned muscles rippled under her skin.
"Tell me how much you like it, you old bag." He continued to play to our age gap fetish. "You're disgusting. You'll be collecting Social Security soon and you're fucking a teenager? You're almost a fucking child molester. Pump your pussy, slut. Squeeze my young cock. Shit, I'm barely legal, and you're so horned up."
"Jules," he called towards me, "her tired old cunt is a fucking swamp. I don't think she's ever been properly fucked."
She groaned and pushed her hips back. She was in another world. I wasn't sure she could even see me, her eyes were rolled up so high in her head. They were two perfect specimens, each in their sexual prime, showing me a better fuck than I would ever again experience myself. She loved every bit of her older lady younger stud fantasy fuck.
He was right about the swamp part, too. Light reflected off of the cunt drippings that drenched both her thighs and ran down the full length of her legs. Paul was literally fucking my wife to the point that she was standing in a puddle of her own vaginal secretions.
Her eyes tried to find me, and then just as quickly turned away in shame and delight. She was moaning like a barn animal. "God, I love it. It feels so good, Paul." It made her feel so guilty to stare at me and tell me how much better he felt. And her guilt just tightened her cunt muscles, clenching his hot cock inside her.
He bit her ear and picked up his pace for a good twenty seconds, banging her over the counter. He looked down at her like a prized possession, running his hand up her back slowly as he fucked her from behind. His hand gripped her hip hard, settling into the curve of her hip.
She braced herself against the wall with one hand, the other gripping his wrist tightly. Her mouth wide open as he took her breath away. She was drooling, too excited sexually even to swallow. Her tits were shiny with her saliva in the harsh overhead light. Paul was fucking her to death and she was seeping fluids uncontrollable at both ends.
He gripped her hair and pulled her up sharply, slowing his pace and grinding into her. "Here it comes, Meredith. Your first load. When I cum I like to picture my bitch pregnant. Your baby bump is going to look real nice after I breed you."
She groaned and started grinding her hips in a circle against him, turning her head to kiss him. "Fill me, Paul. Cum inside me." She panted, out of breath. "I need it."
He moved his arms, reached down between her thighs, then spread them out wide, and lifted her into the wheelbarrow position. He could bang her even harder now, and the slapping of his muscled pelvis and her meaty ass cheeks was loud, clear across the room.
He played to our fantasy. "Take my teen dick, you old *****. Married and horny, aren't you, Bitch? Your tired old husband can't fuck you like this anymore, can he? Did he ever?"
And with that he pulled her to him, his hands squeezing her breasts painfully, lighting her fuse, and buried himself deep inside her as he came.
I watched incredulously, with a mixture of jealousy and burning arousal, as a man ten years younger than me inseminated my wife. He held her like he owned her. Primal and strong. A predator claiming his prey. Her head and torso sagging in exhaustion on the countertop, her legs still around him, no part of the fuck-slut I married touching the floor.
They were both panting, chest heaving as they came down from their high. He bit her ear again, and she turned her head. They kissed, hard, her hips rocking unconsciously against his softening cock. I knew now, if not earlier, that this was not going to be a one-time thing for them. Meredith was going to need regular servicing from now on.
I heard him growl softly as she did. He whispered something in her ear that I couldn't hear. He stepped back and let his cock slip from her pussy, still mostly hard, glistening with a mixture of his and her cum. She collapsed forward onto the counter, and he lowered her legs, still spread to the messy floor. The gleaming of the light off of her upper thighs diminished slightly as his thick white ejaculate lost the fight with gravity.
He looked at me and grinned. "Ready to say thank you, Jules? Give me the rest of my birthday present?"
I gulped and caught my breath. This was it. I'd just been cucked by a man, a boy really, ten years younger than me. I made eye contact with Meredith and could see the excitement in her eyes, biting her lip slightly as she recovered.
***Cleanup On Aisle 29***
Yesterday Meredith and I had talked about this part, just the two of us. Would I be the kind of cuck who cleaned up? She was the one who suggested it to me. I'd resisted, she'd insisted. "It's an important part of my dream, Jules. The younger man claiming my middle-age vagina. Him taking me, mating with me. Animal sex. My old husband endorsing my rejuvenation."
Like many guys, I had tasted my own cum after masturbating when I was young and single. More than tasted, to tell you the truth – I whacked off into condoms and then gobbled my whole load. Meredith knew a little of this because we'd shared a zillion secrets when we were dating and beginning our sexual explorations.
"All those cuckold and swapping videos we're looked at have the husband cleaning his wife. If you loved me…." And that was the end of the bargaining. She'd played the "If you love me…." Card and it trumps all the other cards. At least it does when you're married. So when we had sex last night, she queened my face and stayed on me until I brought her to a second orgasm.
As soon as I had given in to her, and eaten her dirty pussy last night, she moved the goalposts. Before Paul had set foot in our house Meredith had gotten me reluctantly to agree to clean *him*, too. And she did it on her own. I mean, it sounds like something a porn-addled young dude would imagine, but there it was in my wife's head, making her husband submit to her lover and suck cock.
"And *that* wouldn't make you think less of me? Less of a man to you," I had asked her. I really didn't imagine taking this sex adventure that far.
She stared silently at me until I filled the silence.
"If I suck his penis you might not ever look at me the same," I worried out loud. Damn right I worried. That's why I'd never told her about my college roommate.
Silence, just that stare, waiting for me to put the pieces together for myself.
Awareness came slowly for me. "Meredith, you don't *want* to look at me the same, do you? You want Paul to be the man, and I'll be m something less?"
That beautiful face. I loved this woman so much. "That's what you want? Me on my knees in front of a young stud?"
Silence.
"OK. I'll do this for you." No need to tell her how many times I'd done it before. I thought I'd given up cock-sucking when I got married. No reason to deny her this if she wanted to insist.
I've never seen such a smile. Women are so much more intuitive than men. She knew what I didn't. She knew that way down deep inside, when I had first agreed to let her fuck a teenage stud, I was giving it up. Sucking cock would just symbolize who I was going to be from now on. I had resigned the position of Head Man when I had offered her a better cock to play with. A little cock play with Paul wasn't going to change anything, because everything was already changed.
She said, "I want to make him a man for his birthday. And I want him to make me like a girl again for mine. And I think I want him to make you a boy for me."
***
So now I moved forward and sank to my knees, eye level with the cock that had just made me into a cuck. Our bull's cock.
I looked up at him, and he grinned, putting his hand on my head possessively. He would be 20 next week. I leaned forward, tipping my chin up, and their scent flooded my senses. I knew Meredith's smell well, but it was mixed with him so deeply. I breathed it in deeply, and I kissed the head of his cock.
"Thank you for fucking my wife." Meredith had been specific that before cleaning him I should thank him. Part of the "being a boy thing."
I breathed like a bitch in heat. I lifted my mouth and took in his cockhead. Tastes and smells filled me as I felt his girth push my mouth further open. He tasted amazing, like cunt. I pushed about half of his cock into my mouth, and I heard him moan slightly. I sucked, swirling the fat head of his cock with my tongue, as I pulled my mouth off of him. I moved my head further toward his body, closing my mouth around the thinner shaft of his cock, desperate to lick him clean of my wife's cum.
His cum too, to be honest. It felt good to serve a better man like this. It wasn't just the age thing that made him my better. He was younger, stronger, more vital at 20 than I now was at 30. But let's be honest – I'd never had a cock like this, and he'd be more of a man at age 60 than I am now or ever was. I pulled back until only the wide crown of his cock was in my mouth, pursed my lips, and nibbled on his penis.
Then I lifted his dick with my nose and dragged my tongue up the underside of his cock. I licked his hot balls and then took him back into my mouth. His cock was slowly deflating, making it easier to engulf him entirely. I sucked hard as I pulled off his cock, cleaning him like the good boy I was. I lifted his cock with my nose and cleaned my wife's pussy juice off of his balls, focusing on getting every bit from him.
After a few seconds, he pulled my hair back and turned me to face Meredith. She sat on the kitchen counter now, her legs spread, her pussy swollen and red. Her fingers played with her clit as she studied me with a hard stare. Her face was consumed with lust as she watched me service our bull. Looking down at me. Looking down *on* me. The first time she saw me suck cock. The last time she saw me as her equal.
"She needs cleaning up more than I do. If you don't hurry up, her first kid will be mine." My wife and I of course used birth control, but she had an IUD because she couldn't take the pill and all its hormones. IUDs are 99% effective. I thought about that missing 1% just then. We'd asked Paul to talk up the "breeding" thing when they fucked. We hadn't told him that he might, in fact, fertilize Meredith. He thought "birth control" meant she was bullet-proof. It was part of the thrill Meredith and I were enjoying that we knew she wasn't.
Paul squatted down next to me and spoke quietly in my ear. "I saved all of that cum for her, Jules. Since you two made me give up my other bitches, my balls have been full. I dumped it all into her. You'll have to work hard to stop me from breeding her." And with that, he pushed me towards my love's pussy.
She was a mess, and cum was already dripping down her thighs. Her finger still played with her clit as she bit her lip and looked down at me, not saying a word, a harder stare than I was used to.
I licked up her thighs, eating Paul's cum as I went. She moaned, knowing I was becoming something new. Paul had briefly made her a girl again, as she had hoped, a hot sorority chick for an hour. But Paul had made me something new also. I was younger too. I was just a boy now to Meredith, not really a man anymore. I watched myself shrink in her hard eyes. For the first time, I had a doubt about the wisdom of all this. Even if Paul didn't "take" Meredith, was I losing her?
I slowly dragged my tongue higher, to her pussy, and set my whole mouth over it, licking and eating the mess left for me. My face was covered with fluids, and I could smell it, overwhelming my senses. I felt globs of Paul's cum exit her and slither onto my tongue, and I moaned, my hand going to my cock as I started jerking off. It tasted salty and slimy and amazing since it came from her. I planted my lips around her pussy and opened her up with my tongue, desperately cleaning her of our bull's cum. Not her bull, our bull.
He'd filled her so completely it surprised me. It was unreal. I'd never come this much, and it's why I wanted her to have younger guys like him. He really had saved all of this cum just for her. Well, and now for me.
I ate her with abandon, craving her approval. I kept eye contact with her the whole time, trying with all my might to get as much seed from her as possible. Maybe if I gave her an orgasm now it would even the score a little?
I could feel his hand against my head as he pushed me further into her mound, leaning forward himself to kiss her and grab her hair and attention.
He left it to me, the cuckold, to eat his cum out of my wife. He relaxed and kissed his new bitch while her husband submissively ate his seed from her cunt.
Not able to help myself, I turned and slipped his cock into my mouth, determined to make him hard again for her. He had more fuck in him, and Meredith wanted all he had. He was already harder than he'd been a few moments ago when he'd first made me a cock sucker. I was already having trouble fitting him in my mouth.
They broke their kiss and glanced down at me. He chuckled, speaking, "Your husband wants to get me going again, Meredith. He's pretty good at this, too. He's done this before." Paul may not yet have turned 20, but he could tell a talented cocksucker from a beginner. I wasn't his first rodeo.
Then, to me, "I'm not your first dick, am I Julie? First-timers don't do that nibble thing like you do. How many cocks did you blow before you married Meredith?"
I almost came right then, when he called me "Julie". My roommate in college used to call me "Julie" when he made me blow him. A shiver went through me as I remembered wearing lipstick for him. And the brassiere, I'd almost forgotten wearing the bra. Lipstick and a bra and a girl's name and he could pretend I was a woman and that he wasn't gay.
"Well, Meredith, no rest for you, slut. Let's saddle up again. Or else maybe the old man wants to keep your new cock to himself for a while."
"He'll have to wait. Watching the geezer suck your cock has me so turned on. Can we do it in our bed now?"
I felt a hand at the back of my head again as he pushed into my throat. I pulled off a bit and glanced up, seeing the two of them kissing, her sitting on the counter, his fingers in her pussy and thumb on her clit. I could feel him grow in my mouth and precum ooze out onto my tongue.
This was the cock that was going to fuck Meredith again, and I was getting it ready.
Our young lover helped my wife off of the counter and led her by the hand to our marital bed. He spent the night, and in the morning Meredith asked me to make breakfast while they showered together.
An hour later he kissed Meredith goodbye at our front door, and then he turned to me and surprised me by pulling me in for a bro hug. Then he was gone, and it felt like all the energy had just left the apartment.
As she walked slowly back to the table she said, without even turning her head to face me, "That was the best birthday present you ever gave me, Jules. Thank you for doing that."
Then, finally turning to face me as she sipped her coffee she added, "He'll be back Friday night."
I'd wanted this for so long.
***Our Second Session With Paul***
Meredith talked about Paul every night that week, whether we were having sex or not. Although we mostly were; she was insatiable.
Tuesday night, when I was all fucked out and struggling to stay erect long enough for her, she stuck her finger in my butt "because I read about this in a magazine."
It helped, and Wednesday night she used a skinny little vibrator she owned – it was advertised as "purse-size, take me anywhere." I'm pretty sure I couldn't have stayed hard enough to give her that second fuck that night if it hadn't been for the anal stimulation of her toy.
And while I labored away she taunted me a little bit, saying "small enough to go anywhere" described my cock. I stewed in humiliation knowing that, since Paul had arrived on the scene, I would forevermore be "the smaller cock."
Paul spent most of the next weekend in our bed. Oh, of course, they got up to eat or watch some TV, but they never got dressed and never left the apartment. Five or six times he or Meredith would call me in and ask me to "clean them up," which I did without complaint.
And mostly with enthusiasm. I always enjoyed oral sex on my wife; now that I was "the smaller cock" it was clear that my mouth was going to be my main connection to Meredith as long as Paul was in the house.
Or maybe even when he wasn't. Saturday night, after almost 24 hours in our bed, Paul told Meredith that he wanted her to himself. He showed her a small male chastity device – a cock cage – and suggested to her that she "symbolize" the exclusive relationship he wanted with her by locking me away whenever she wanted.
You'll have a hard time believing this, but at first, I didn't mind. I knew with him present I was not going to be having regular sex with my wife, and the device didn't hurt. In fact, it was vaguely pleasant, a constant touching and rubbing of my dick and balls. It did hurt the few times I started to get erect, which was whenever I was allowed to clean Paul's cock of Meredith's juices. But even that hurt was fleeting because my erection swiftly quashed itself.
Sunday afternoon he unlocked me and told us that he wanted me to have "one last fuck" with Meredith before she locked me up for the week. I was excited at the thought of once again having sex with my wife but worried about his apparent plan to lock my penis in its new cage for five days.
Meredith looked even more lovely to me the more I had enjoyed the opportunity to watch her in Paul's embraces. As I crawled between her legs to begin with an oral wetting of her vulva, my penis was throbbing and fully erect. But when I began to slither up her body to take her properly, I became a little creeped out by Paul's stares at our union. I began to lose my erection.
Instead of mocking me as I feared, Paul was instead encouraging both of us. He suggested to Meredith that she reach around she tickle my anus with her finger. For some reason, she didn't mention to him that she played with my rectum all week. He almost sounded clinical as he explained to her that all men loved a little butt play, what with having a prostate and everything. She shot me a quick private look and moved her finger anywhere near my asshole.
Paul got impatient, reached for the KY on the side table, and quite gently began to finger me himself. I was ready for pain and insult, but Paul was quite tender and encouraging, keeping up a patter that was all about getting me hard for Meredith. At first, he tried only to pop my ring open with the tip of his pointer finger, and he was generous with the lubricant. Not only was he not hurting me, but to my surprise, my cock inflated like a cheap balloon.
I was surprised, but not really unhappy, when he continued to finger me even while I made love to Meredith. His comments were all about my being a cuckold – "come on Paul, fuck your own wife or I will" – and not about our ass-play. I found it easy to relax, focus on the best fuck I'd had for weeks, and go along with whatever he wanted. I barely noticed when he started a gentle corkscrew motion with two fingers inserted.
Meredith was responding more and more visibly to my thrusting. I began to imagine the possibility that I could bring us both to orgasm together. It seemed to me as if it had been many months since that had happened.
Her legs wrapped tightly around my thighs and her heels dug in alongside my knees. She began opening her thighs wider to me, pulling her legs apart so I could plunge even deeper into her now juicy cunt. I was beginning to lose control, and my hips were slamming into hers almost hard enough to hurt.
Her legs widening pulled mine apart also, and as my buttocks spread wider Paul's fingers had more room for pulling and twisting. Out of my sight, he had prepared his own large shaft with KY, too, and as soon as he changed positions it only took him two or three seconds to pop the fat head of his iron-hard cock into the mouth of my anus.
I went rigid and jerked my body as if I was being electrocuted. Meredith had of course known what Paul's plans for me were, and her arms held me tightly against her chest as I tried to escape my fate. Paul was much stronger than I was, and it soon became clear to me that I was not going to slip their embraces.
Meredith's soft lips murmured gentler encouragement into my left ear, "It's OK, darling. Relax and hold me. It's going to be fine. Really. Push out. Pretend you want to fart and push out. Sweet baby. Let it go, honey."
Paul's stubble was against my right ear giving me slightly different advice, "Take it, you pussy. Take a real cock. Don't pretend you're a man anymore. You gave me your wife, you sad little fuck. Now you're giving me your ass. Bitch."
There was surprisingly little pain, but a great deal of discomfort. I felt full, as if I was being inflated. Then a gentle slide out, and the pressure disappeared. A little more lube, another inch deeper this time. Out slowly, in slowly. Each cycle my ass gave up another inch of itself to Paul's insistence. He never did bottom out in me; I just wasn't big enough to take all of him, and it really did hurt when he bumped into whatever it was that prevented deeper plunges.
"How is that now, Julie?" my wife crooned in my ear. Now you know, huh? What it feels like for me to get fucked."
"Don't call me that, Meredith," I began to complain, but she shushed me to be quiet.
"It's fine, honey. Getting fucked is better than fucking, right? I never wanted to be a man, with all those cock size issues and performance obligations. I never worry if my pussy is the right size, or if I can get an erection, or if I'll cum too soon. You poor men, with all that baggage. Men are so fucked up. We just open our legs and fuck and fuck and there is nothing to worry about. We don't even have to move unless we want to, you horny boys will do all the pumping for us, right? Feel it, honey? It's OK, right? Getting fucked by a hot man? I was always happy I get to take cock. Is Paul pleasing you, Julie?"
He was.
She made sense, I thought. This was sex without worries. I relaxed even more, and as my glutes gave up the last of their struggle Paul got one more half-inch of cock into me.
I struggled now with keeping a rhythm, getting my hips right. It was hard to time my thrusts into Meredith with Paul's thrusts into me. I was mostly bumping into both of them, doing the wrong motion at the wrong time.
"Let me drive, Jules," Paul said in my ear. "You just stay still. I'll pump you, and you pump the *****, and I'll set the pace, OK little man?"
And as I relaxed, as I gave up the last shred of control, I heard my wife, "He's right, Julie. He'll fuck us both by fucking you. Let Paul take over, just enjoy that cock up your asspussy. He's so much better at this than you are."
And my cock had never been harder! It was inside Meredith, where it always belonged, and maybe we could still cum together. I tried to gauge her progress but suddenly it was all too much for me. Meredith held my head to her breast, stroked my hair, and pulled her legs far apart. Paul snarled something about making me pregnant and I shot my wad so far into Meredith that it might never come out.
Paul came next, flooding my rectum with his sperm. And Meredith didn't cum at all, but she still sang in my ear "It's alright, Julie. You enjoyed that more than I did. And Paul will never run out of cock for me. Well, for us, right? It's fine."
I'd wanted this for so long. And after we all showered, as we said goodnight at the front door, Paul left after making a big ceremony out of locking my penis back in its cage and giving Meredith the key.
***Four's A Crowd***
Paul's third visit with us was the weekend of Meredith's 30th birthday. I hogged her for myself Friday night and took her to a nice restaurant for a four-course meal. Then we relaxed for two hours at her favorite jazz club nearby. I know very little about jazz, but my wife has been a serious fan since she was in high school.
We shared a tender and romantic "date night" and for just a few hours, we had turned back the clock and could almost make-believe our marriage was new, and exciting, and would last forever. That evening after Meredith unlocked my chastity device we had slow, romantic sex and never mentioned Meredith's new stud. I had no trouble maintaining my erection for her but was struggling to reach my climax. Finally, I asked her to finger me a little and I eventually blew my load as my anus spasmed and nibbled her fingertip. A quick shower and my jewels – yes, I'd heard 'Jules' jewels' jokes all my life – were back in captivity, locked up tight until Meredith or Paul set them free.
Paul had promised to bring in dinner for us Saturday night. He arrived at about 7:00 with a delicious Persian spread with lamb kabobs, sautéed chicken, and two kinds of rice. He also brought a friend named Roger, and when my wife greeted him by name, "Roger, we're so happy you could come with Paul," I realized I'd been left out of the loop on purpose.
Paul took command of the situation right away. "Jules, you come help me spread this out in the kitchen. No work tonight for the birthday girl, right? Roger, keep the guest of honor company for a few minutes. Enjoy getting to know each other. Jules and I will bring your drinks in a minute after we see to the food."
And just like that, Paul was in charge. He assigned me kitchen tasks as if it was his kitchen. He told me what to plate and what to rewarm. I was in such a fog that I thought he was going to wear the apron he asked me for, but of course he told me to put it on, and to bring the two glasses of wine I poured to "the other couple."
Meredith made quite a thing over eyeballing my apron while Roger grinned at me. Then she ordered me to turn around so that she could "tie it properly in the back." I was blushing furiously when I returned as quickly as I was allowed to the kitchen.
Strangely, the whole scene in the living room was so unexpected and stressful that I was relieved to be back in the kitchen with Paul. It was my "safe place" and the other room was now a danger zone. As I set the serving tray down on the counter and turned to Paul he stepped forward, gave me a hug, and said "Good job, Julie."
Then he put some snacks on the tray, handed it to me, turned me around, and with a gentle pat on my ass sent me back into enemy territory. Maybe if I had cleared my throat they would have stopped, but when I entered the room I found Roger and Meredith making out like teenagers on the sofa. Well, Roger probably was a teenager, and Meredith was trying to be one again, so I should have expected it I guess. Roger didn't even remove his hand from my wife's breast as he told me to set down the food and "give us some privacy."
When I reentered the kitchen this time I was twice as flustered and lost. What kind of a night was this going to be? Paul had watched the whole scene from the kitchen doorway and when I came back to him he opened his arms and I guess I kind of threw myself into his embrace. No bro hug this time, he squeezed me tightly and I returned his emotion.
He danced me back into the kitchen and guided us towards the dinette chairs. Without releasing me he sat down in one of the chairs, which meant that he was now hugging my hips, not my shoulders. He pulled the key to my cage from his pocket, reached under my apron, and took off my pants and boxers which puddled at my ankles.
"You should be free tonight, Julie," he said to me, and I was too happy about the cage to complain yet again about the girly name. I decided to let it go, the name thing. Paul would decide when I am "Jules" and when I am "Julie," and I would behave accordingly. The only thing that mattered was keeping Meredith happy. While he fumbled with my penis prison I turned my head to see the other room.
Roger was sitting back, his trousers at his ankles, like me, and my wife was on her knees in front of him sucking his erect cock. Paul stood up now and led me by my cock into the other room. As we approached the sofa he said "Roger, it's time you got to know Meredith's husband. Here, you hold him for a while. My slut needs to be fucked or she'll never eat her dinner."
Meredith half-way turned her head to Paul and quickly resumed what she was doing. Paul stripped completely naked and knelt behind her to fuck her like a dog. She moaned as Paul sheathed his dick into her pussy, but she never stopped blowing Roger who in turn never let go of my erection under my apron.
The food got cold as the two college studs spit-roasted my wife while I watched impotently. They bantered back and forth about the *****, and the fag, and how needy we were, and how happy they were to fuck us. The dirty talk, the humiliation, and the sights, sounds, and smells of my wife's dream-come-true kept me on the edge of an orgasm of my own.
Roger twisted the apron out of the way when Paul told him to "see what a little cock this guy has." He laughed at me and said something to Meredith about her bad choice of husbands. She moaned louder and started to spiral her mouth around Roger's much-larger cock.
Paul had her hips in his hands and was pounding her forcefully. "Pace yourself, bro," he said to his friend. "This needy ***** can fuck all night. I know. Save that load for something more memorable than a blow job. Wanna have sloppy seconds? Or maybe her ass?" Paul felt her cunt muscles clench tightly on his dick when she trembled at the idea.
Roger actually looked puzzled, like this was going to require thought. He let go of my erection and told me to go fetch some lube. Then, changing his mind I guess, he followed me into the bedroom. He stood in the doorway and watched me take the KY from the dresser.
"You look like a fairy in that apron. Let me see you put on a pair of slut's panties. I want to dress you up a little."
I found pair of briefs but he said "something skimpier," and I held up pone pair after another for his approval. Then, when I put on the pair he wanted, the head of my cock stuck up in the front and he ordered me to tuck myself beneath my crotch and squeeze everything in.
"Turn around. Let me see how sissy you look." I slowly turned all the way around and he ordered me to put on a bra. Once I did, he brought me back out into the living room where Meredith was sobbing and whimpering.
Paul had moved her forward and her head and shoulders were now face down in the cushion. His hands reached underneath her and pulled and twisted her nipples savagely. Her B-cup breasts were being pulled away from her body and it looked more painful than pleasant.
There were red marks on her buttocks that looked like bites, not palm prints. They were explained in a minute when he began beating her ass cheeks with the back of his flicked fingertips. Reach up. Bring arm and hand down fast. Flick wrist so the back of fingertips sting the meat. Each hit was like a knife stabbing her ass.
Tears streamed down her cheeks and she groaned how much she loved what he was doing. "Fuck me like I'm a stuck-up cheerleader cock-teaser," she groaned. "Teach me who's boss." I had never seen this side of my wife's sexuality. I had never known her to enjoy pain.
"I got another cheerleader over here, Paul," Roger said, and Paul leered at me while banging the shit out of my wife. Meredith was facing away from me so Paul jerked her head around with a vicious tug of her hair.
"Too ugly," Meredith managed to croak. "Hairy legs, no tits. She's a Booster, maybe a Pom. Girls like her don't tease; they fuck everybody on the team. Put some lipstick on her and she'll look better." Jesus, was this my wife?
"Go," Roger said, spinning me back towards the bedroom. Put on some lipstick and get you cunt back out here."
I might have done a better job if I'd taken my time, but I needed to get back to watch Paul destroy Meredith. They all chuckled when I came back so quickly, and with such a sloppy job.
"Julie, get over here on your knees," Paul said. I was sure Roger would sit in front of me again, and I would suck him again, but I was wrong. Paul withdrew his throbbing erection from Meredith and told Roger to "finish her off." He took the KY, greased my hole by inserting not one but two fingers right at the start, and soon had me drooling as his fingers banged into my prostate.
And just like that, less than two minutes after Julie entered the room, Paul was slamming his cock into my ass as I knelt next to my delirious wife. Roger had resumed the nipple torture and the butt slapping, and Paul twisted my man boobs, too.
Meredith turned her face towards me and asked for a kiss. We swapped tongues, and spit, as we rocked side by side half-on the sofa. She pulled away, gave me a strange, piercing look, and then said loudly, to the boys, "I'd like Paul to finish in me. Roger, would you be an angel and fuck Julie instead? I took out my birth control last week and I think I want Paul to breed me for my birthday. Well, and for his, too."
Then, to me, "It's going to be your birthday present to the both of us."
