(continued from 13a)
The bed began creaking loudly, and the floorboards themselves vibrated with the sound. From the story Sally told me later, I was listening to the sound of her on top of him, fucking him as hard as she could. I looked at the jar of Vaseline sitting next to me on the floor, and remembered how she never, ever needed any lubrication other than her body's own when she was with him, and suddenly it struck me again: Ty's penis was inside my wife! He and my wife were upstairs, naked, fucking - and I was listening and jerking off.
Quiet again, then another loud moan from Sally. I can only describe it as pleasure mixed with surprise. This, I learned later, was when he laid down beside her and slid her left leg over him, entering her in the "scissors" position. She said he went so deep inside her that it took her breath away, and that is what I heard: he pushed her breath out of her with his cock! The creaking (and Sally's gasping) varied for the next ten minutes or so; faster, slower, harder, softer. In my shame, I realized that even without seeing them I knew he was better than I; in all our years of making love, I had never used so many different rhythms in making love to my wife.
And then she came. Sitting on the floor in the living room, I was struck by the sound of my wife's orgasm coming from upstairs. It went on for the longest time - I have no idea how long it really was, but the pain and excitement of hearing my wife lose control in her lover's bed and in her lover's arms was overwhelming. The creaking of the bed continued through her orgasm, and I remembered that since she has been coming to see him by herself, she has begun to cum with his cock inside her; something she has never done with anyone else. I was actually hearing the sound of Ty fucking her while she came, and I looked down at my own penis, which had never made her feel that way. I had heard ABOUT it before; now, I had heard it.
When her cries of pleasure subsided, the creaking stopped for a few seconds. Then it began again, as forcefully as I had heard earlier. Long, hard creaks of the bed and groans of the floorboards until, in less than a minute, I heard the deep, guttural gasps of Ty cumming in my wife. Sally told me afterward that right after she came - before the "aftershocks" even subsided - she had climbed on top of him and had fucked him hard until he came. She said it was "so cute" how he tried to hold back, tried to last longer, but the feeling of her pussy twitching from her own orgasm, the feeling of her breasts as she pushed them into his face, and her complete desire to feel him cum in her were just too much. "Let go," she told him, and he did... in her. All I could do was sit on the living room floor and rub my twitching penis while I listened to Ty fill my wife's body with his sperm.
For the next 20 minutes they talked softly. Again, I could not make out any of the words, but it did not matter; they were the intimate words of lovers, and I was an unimportant eavesdropper. I thought about how much she cared for him, not knowing that she would make that thought even clearer when we spoke afterward. I continued to masturbate, realizing that of the three people in the house, two were completely satisfied and drained... literally.
When I heard them get up and begin to move around, I grabbed a few tissues, wiped off the Vaseline, and pulled up my pants. They came downstairs a few minutes later. Sally looked like an absolute angel; she was glowing, smiling and walking like a queen. I sputtered out the question, "Did you have a good time?" She smiled even more and responded, "Oh, yes. It's nice to feel that good at least once in a while."
They made small talk for another few minutes, then Sally wished him well with his work and kissed him deeply. "See you soon. Thank you," she purred to him, and we walked out the door.
We got as far as an abandoned parking lot before I pulled over and asked her to tell me about her date. She described most of what I have said, but she talked lovingly about a few things I did not, and could not, have known.
She told me about getting wet as she played with him in front of me, and said she loved doing that to me.
She told me how he undressed her, and how she laid down on the bed. Before he entered her, he looked at her lying there, naked, underneath him, and she thought about how I have not seen that sight in over a year.
She talked about how he "attacked" her breasts - when he first laid down on her, while they were fucking, when she came, and especially when she got on top of him to make him cum.
She pulled up her shirt and said that now I could see her bra. "In fact," she added, "there's something else I want you to see." With that, she lowered her bra strap and uncovered the top of her left breast, stopping just before ******** her nipple. "Look what he left," she ordered, and as I looked, I saw three hickeys. There, on the breast she saves for only his eyes, were the signs of his excitement and my cuckolding; clearly, he was not afraid to send her home with his marks of passion.
I was ready to cum, but she was not done.
"Do you know what he said to me when we finished?" she asked, rhetorically. "He said he would love have me spend a night, so he could make love to me all night."
"Make LOVE to you, or have SEX with you?" I asked. You see, about two months ago, I asked her if she thought of her dates with him as sex, as fucking, or as making love. She had said, "Great sex," and I accepted that as the limit to which she would go in sharing herself with another man.
"He said he wanted to make love to me all night."
"And what do YOU want to do?" I stuttered.
She understood the question. "I want to make love to him, just as I did today. He cares about me, you know. He wants me to feel good, physically and mentally. He wants to be with me, to be IN me, and I want it, too. It isn't just sex anymore; we make love."
"When did this happen?" I asked, stroking myself furiously.
"I guess it began when I started seeing him without you. We fit together so well - better than you and I ever did. I just started making love to him."
"Love, not just sex?"
"Making love. I want to make love to him again."
I came. Then I cleaned myself up, pulled up my pants again, and I brought my wife - with her lover's hickeys on her breast, with her lover's sperm swimming inside her vagina, with the glow of a woman who has just made love - home.
Cuckold Paul
newatthis22a@yahoo.com
The bed began creaking loudly, and the floorboards themselves vibrated with the sound. From the story Sally told me later, I was listening to the sound of her on top of him, fucking him as hard as she could. I looked at the jar of Vaseline sitting next to me on the floor, and remembered how she never, ever needed any lubrication other than her body's own when she was with him, and suddenly it struck me again: Ty's penis was inside my wife! He and my wife were upstairs, naked, fucking - and I was listening and jerking off.
Quiet again, then another loud moan from Sally. I can only describe it as pleasure mixed with surprise. This, I learned later, was when he laid down beside her and slid her left leg over him, entering her in the "scissors" position. She said he went so deep inside her that it took her breath away, and that is what I heard: he pushed her breath out of her with his cock! The creaking (and Sally's gasping) varied for the next ten minutes or so; faster, slower, harder, softer. In my shame, I realized that even without seeing them I knew he was better than I; in all our years of making love, I had never used so many different rhythms in making love to my wife.
And then she came. Sitting on the floor in the living room, I was struck by the sound of my wife's orgasm coming from upstairs. It went on for the longest time - I have no idea how long it really was, but the pain and excitement of hearing my wife lose control in her lover's bed and in her lover's arms was overwhelming. The creaking of the bed continued through her orgasm, and I remembered that since she has been coming to see him by herself, she has begun to cum with his cock inside her; something she has never done with anyone else. I was actually hearing the sound of Ty fucking her while she came, and I looked down at my own penis, which had never made her feel that way. I had heard ABOUT it before; now, I had heard it.
When her cries of pleasure subsided, the creaking stopped for a few seconds. Then it began again, as forcefully as I had heard earlier. Long, hard creaks of the bed and groans of the floorboards until, in less than a minute, I heard the deep, guttural gasps of Ty cumming in my wife. Sally told me afterward that right after she came - before the "aftershocks" even subsided - she had climbed on top of him and had fucked him hard until he came. She said it was "so cute" how he tried to hold back, tried to last longer, but the feeling of her pussy twitching from her own orgasm, the feeling of her breasts as she pushed them into his face, and her complete desire to feel him cum in her were just too much. "Let go," she told him, and he did... in her. All I could do was sit on the living room floor and rub my twitching penis while I listened to Ty fill my wife's body with his sperm.
For the next 20 minutes they talked softly. Again, I could not make out any of the words, but it did not matter; they were the intimate words of lovers, and I was an unimportant eavesdropper. I thought about how much she cared for him, not knowing that she would make that thought even clearer when we spoke afterward. I continued to masturbate, realizing that of the three people in the house, two were completely satisfied and drained... literally.
When I heard them get up and begin to move around, I grabbed a few tissues, wiped off the Vaseline, and pulled up my pants. They came downstairs a few minutes later. Sally looked like an absolute angel; she was glowing, smiling and walking like a queen. I sputtered out the question, "Did you have a good time?" She smiled even more and responded, "Oh, yes. It's nice to feel that good at least once in a while."
They made small talk for another few minutes, then Sally wished him well with his work and kissed him deeply. "See you soon. Thank you," she purred to him, and we walked out the door.
We got as far as an abandoned parking lot before I pulled over and asked her to tell me about her date. She described most of what I have said, but she talked lovingly about a few things I did not, and could not, have known.
She told me about getting wet as she played with him in front of me, and said she loved doing that to me.
She told me how he undressed her, and how she laid down on the bed. Before he entered her, he looked at her lying there, naked, underneath him, and she thought about how I have not seen that sight in over a year.
She talked about how he "attacked" her breasts - when he first laid down on her, while they were fucking, when she came, and especially when she got on top of him to make him cum.
She pulled up her shirt and said that now I could see her bra. "In fact," she added, "there's something else I want you to see." With that, she lowered her bra strap and uncovered the top of her left breast, stopping just before ******** her nipple. "Look what he left," she ordered, and as I looked, I saw three hickeys. There, on the breast she saves for only his eyes, were the signs of his excitement and my cuckolding; clearly, he was not afraid to send her home with his marks of passion.
I was ready to cum, but she was not done.
"Do you know what he said to me when we finished?" she asked, rhetorically. "He said he would love have me spend a night, so he could make love to me all night."
"Make LOVE to you, or have SEX with you?" I asked. You see, about two months ago, I asked her if she thought of her dates with him as sex, as fucking, or as making love. She had said, "Great sex," and I accepted that as the limit to which she would go in sharing herself with another man.
"He said he wanted to make love to me all night."
"And what do YOU want to do?" I stuttered.
She understood the question. "I want to make love to him, just as I did today. He cares about me, you know. He wants me to feel good, physically and mentally. He wants to be with me, to be IN me, and I want it, too. It isn't just sex anymore; we make love."
"When did this happen?" I asked, stroking myself furiously.
"I guess it began when I started seeing him without you. We fit together so well - better than you and I ever did. I just started making love to him."
"Love, not just sex?"
"Making love. I want to make love to him again."
I came. Then I cleaned myself up, pulled up my pants again, and I brought my wife - with her lover's hickeys on her breast, with her lover's sperm swimming inside her vagina, with the glow of a woman who has just made love - home.
Cuckold Paul
newatthis22a@yahoo.com
