Phone And Sex

A Dream Cum True I remember how the seeds were planted for the "cheating wife" fantasy that my wife Trina and I began sharing. It was a couple of months before our wedding, and up until that time (in our spoken understanding) we agreed that we always wanted to be faithful to each other and that the idea of "swinging" was sort of creepy to us. But we followed a period of time where we didn't talk about that anymore, and I had to admit that a certain image had been creeping into my fantasy life that went against the grain of our understanding. Trina has large tits. I should say enormous! They're tits to die for; gargantuan, pumpkin shaped boobs with orange brown nipples each the size of an oatmeal cookie! Early on, I had to get used to the fact that Trina was a traffic stopper. When I would walk down the street with her, guys would constantly trip over themselves and run into lamp posts. And many guys weren't too shy about calling invitations out the windows of their cars -- even though they could see she was already with a guy. Which made me wonder what it was like when I wasn't on the street with her. Which is where the fantasy seems to have its roots: One night, a couple of months before our wedding, as I said, we were sitting in a bar we like, listening to the rock band playing. Well, even though we were sitting alone at a table, Trina had guys all over her asking her to dance (the tight-fitting, black shirt she was wearing probably didn't help). She deflected all these invitations, of course, but as each guy hungrily eyed my finance's cleavage, I just couldn't help thinking what it would be like to see the two of them in bed together, fucking each other goofy. We've always had a very "talkative" fucking relationship and while I had my cock in her that night in bed, I started to let slip what was on my mind. At first I was scared that she'd be angry with me for violating our "understanding," but I had a pleasant surprise in store. "Babe, you know all those guys that kept asking you to dance tonight?" I said this to the rhythm of a long, slow fuck-stroke. This was followed by a breathy silence a couple of more fuck-strokes long, then Trina whispered hotly, "Yeah?" "You know that what I kept thinking' about during this fuck?" I continued the sensual pace all the while our whispered conversation took place. "What?" "I keep imagining that you went up and danced with some of them." "Oh, yeah?" There was no disguising her obvious interest in my fantasy. "I also keep wondering what it would be like if we were in the bar together but pretended we didn't know each other. You know, and I got to watch you flirt and dance all sexy as hell with a strange guy and then..." But Trina was suddenly pumping her groin furiously against mine, moaning and coming to beat all. She screamed in a huge orgasm and nearly tore a swatch of hair out of my head. It was obvious she really dug the direction of the conversation. It was a few minutes, however, before I could resume my narrative. I told her how I wanted to watch her boldly come on to a strange man, to see her lick his ear, run her hand sensually down to the lump in his tight slacks. To watch him feel her ass hotly, and then run his hand up to her huge knockers while he frenched kissed her passionately. Then I wanted to leave the bar, all horny as can be from what I saw, in order to beat them home. Once in our apartment, I would hide under the bed or in the walk-in dressing room and wait. I would listen (and even peek if I could) as she talked dirty to him and finally fucked him. All the while I would beat-off from my hidden spot. During this story, Trina had at least four more seismic orgasms and it took me nearly an hour to get the whole thing out. When I finished and she was in the throes of her last and biggest cum, I too came, and we rocked passionately until we fell asleep, exhausted. As I said, that was shortly before our wedding, and by the time we did say our vows, our sex life was had been completely transformed from a sanitized-but-horny one to a low-down-dirty-perverted one. And we both wordlessly agreed that it was by far for the better. Things went on like this for awhile, and it looked as though this "cheating wife thing" would merely be our favorite fantasy. but as the months went on, our hunger to see the fantasy actually acted out grew and grew until it seemed as though having Trina screwing other guys was all either of us would ever talk about. One night during all this time we were in the same bar again listening to music (with Trina dressed just as slutly as she could, complete with killer cleavage). Trina had her high heel up under the table as she was scraping it up and down into my crotch, all the while looking me in the eye and running the tip of her tongue slowly along the edge of her full lips. I was honestly only a moment away from creaming my jeans right there in front of everyone. "You know what?" I croaked hoarsely. "What?" she purred wickedly. "If one of these guys asks you to dance tonight, you... you know... you should, kind of..." "You mean you think I should dance with him?" Her eyes were wide and hungry and the dirtiest, nervous chortle escaped her throat. "Uh, yeah, "I fumbled, "all that stuff... you know, all like we... we..." "Yeah," she said, shaking her head and giggling even more wickedly, "I know what you mean." Suddenly, Trina removed her foot with a cool but playful wink. "Are you thinking that maybe we should split up for a while?" I asked in a breathy voice. "Uh, ye-ah," she said in a strangely coy voice. "Under the circumstances, I think that would be a nice idea." I didn't even hesitate. I got up like a shot and headed for an empty barstool. In the short time it took for me to sit down, order my drink, and turn back around, there was already a guy leaning on his hands on Trina's table, flirting like hell with her. Trina made the tiniest of furtive glances in my direction and then completely gave the guy her attention. As soon as she started speaking to him in an animated way, licking her lips and batting her eyes, even reaching out and touching his hand lightly to emphasize something she'd said, I thought I would die from arousal. I had to cross my legs for the protruding erection this was giving me. He must have asked her to dance, because she nodded her head in a bright eyed, sexy way and mouthed the word "okay." Watching them dance to the rhythm of the bouncy rock song was nearly impossible. I had to fight the urge to grab at the lump in my pants and start massaging it over and over and over. They weren't exactly touching each other, but they were fast dancing on a crowded floor very close to each other and there were many, many excuses for them to bump and rub their bodies together. Trina also has this way of dancing "shing-a-ling" style that makes her huge breasts bob violently up and down and makes her cleavage swell in pulses over and over. I tried to see if my wife had given this guy as huge as mine, but the other dancers kept me from getting a clear view of his pants. Then came the slow dance. I went into schock as I saw Trina wrap her arms seductively around this guy as she crushed her boobs around his chest. And my heart absolutely stopped as I watched my wife incline her head towards his, and with an open mouth, point her tongue right at his lips. His mouth opened hungrily to accept her tongue and before I could say "cardiac arrest" they were chewing on each other's necks. All of a sudden. I realized that Trina kept looking over at me in a series of quick glances. When she saw that she had at least caught my eye, she smiled and made a subtle nod toward the door with her head without her boyfriend seeing it. I knew this was my cue. And the best was yet to come. I leaped from the stool and left the bar in a hurry. Trina had come in our car with me, but somehow I had the idea that she'd find her way home in a new, creative way. As I drove crazily down the side streets to our apartment building, I unzipped and pulled my aching cock out of the constraints of my underwear. I was harder than ever. I didn't jack off to orgasm, but I did give it a few delicious tugs that were like water in the desert. Touching myself had never seemed like such an incredible blessing before! Now, as I pulled up to our building and put myself back into my pants, I thought of a problem: where in the world was I going to hide in our apartment in order to view the unfolding spectacle with full enjoyment? I tossed the idea wildly about on my way up in the elevator and down the hallway. It wasn't until I skidded breathlessly into our bedroom that any kind of logical thoughts came into my brain. The first place I tried was under the bed. I wouldn't be able to see, but at least I'd be able to hear, and the squeaking and thrashing of them screwing right on top of me had a very exciting appeal. But as soon as I had crawled down onto the floor, I realized that this was out -- I couldn't fit under our bed! Besides, what if they broke the bed? A guy could get crushed. I entered the walk-in dressing room and considered it for only a second. It was so crowded with shoes and vacua cleaner parts that I couldn't see how I could manage to hide in there and not clunk around with a lot of noise. Then my eyes fell on the vanity. In the corner of the room we had arranged Trina's vanity set. But instead of putting it against either wall, we made it face out into the room from the corner so that the back of it made a triangle with the corner. And that meant that there was a little triangle of wasted space behind it. With great difficulty I dragged the heavy vanity over the carpeting until there was a little gateway to the triangle of space behind. Then I squeezed in there, and with even greater difficulty, I pulled the vanity back in place. I now had a great little hiding spot. As I stood upright, I was completely hidden by the top of the mirror. It was the perfect vantage point for the bed across the room. If the overhead light were kept off, I'd have a clear shot at a peek around the side of the mirror. And there was just enough room in the little triangle of the corner so I could sit down with my knees at my chest and not feel too terribly cramped. I did just this. I tried to get cozy and quiet in my new little hiding spot. My heart was thudding, and I wondered how I'd ever be able to breathe silently enough to not be discovered. And my hard-on ached so badly that after a few struggling moments, I released it from my tight pants. But I didn't have long to wait. First I heard a whispered giggling outside the door, then a fumbling for the keys through the contents of a purse. Then I heard the door unlock and open. They whispered lewdly to each other, and I could not understand a word. But it was clear that they were headed straight for the bedroom. "Christ," I mouthed silently to myself, "what a whore I'm married to!" I didn't yet know the half of it. Now they were actually in the bedroom with me. "God, I want to see that cock out in the light!" I heard Trina say. Apparently, she'd already had his cock out of his pants in the car. I heard a zipper come and then a giggle. Then I heard a sound that I never really believed I would really hear ever until that moment. I couldn't believe my ears at first, in fact. What I heard was a fast, sloppy, slurping sound -- the sound of my wife sucking another man's cock! At that moment I experienced the most painfully hard erection I'd ever experienced in my entire life! I heard the springs of our bed squeaking in a regular rhythm, SQUEAK... SQUEAK-SQUEAK... SQUEAK... Then I was aware of a wet, squishy noise, almost like someone smacking their lips over and over again, only not exactly. I managed to get a good grip on my cock and could stroke it happily. And now, in an exalted state of dazedness, I realized I was hearing something else. It was a tiny, squealing soprano voice chanting the words, "Oh God, oh God, oh, oh, oh, Go-AW-d, oh God," to the steady beat of the squeaking and squishing. It was Trina getting her brains screwed blue not fifteen feet away from me. I just had to see this. With a great amount of difficultly I first got up to my knees and then into a crouched position (nearly knocking the whole vanity over because I tripped up on my pants which were now down around my ankles!). And then, moving as slowly as a snail on sedatives, I began to stand upright. When I was completely standing I took a few deep breaths to compose myself. The knob of my dick brushed against a protruding wood screw on the back of the mirror, and I bit my lip in agony. My hard-on only stiffened its resolve, though, and I stroked it soothingly. The symphony of squeak-squish-squeal over the bed was reaching a frenzied rhythm now, and I could put off the inevitable no longer. I slowly, oh so slowly, bent at the hip and peered around the side of the mirror, my eyes assaulted at once with the vision of the hugest trunk tree of a cock I had ever seen pumping in and out of Trina, the entire shaft slippery with her juice and strecthing her cunt lips out far further than my dick ever had! My wife -- MY WIFE! -- was spreading out on our bed for another guy. And this guy was on top of her and having the time of his life. As I gazed , drooling and pulling out my cock harder now, the guy wrapped his arms around Trina's gigantic boobs and pressed his face desperately into her cleavage. He continued to fuck her savagely as he painted her lips with his face and tongue, slurping and choking (practically) on the huge nipples. I knew Trina wouldn't last long now. She loved to have her tits sucked and she took many an orgasm solely from her sensitive nips. I could hear her squeals building to a climax and I pounded my meat ever more roughly. Suddenly, I accidentally shoved my shoulder against the vanity. To my horror, I watched (detached, and as as if it were in slow motion) as the entire vanity, mirror and all, went crashing forward onto the floor. And there I stood in the corner, my pants and underwear around my ankles, my dick in my hand stone hard, with my wife and her boyfriend staring at me wide-eyed like deer caught in headlights. "Uh, hi," I said quietly. The guy looked shocked for a moment, then he pulled his dick all the way out of Trina and said, "What the hell?" He made a quick move to get off the bed and this made Trina suddenly frantic. "Wait a minute!" she hissed, grabbing him by the wrist. "He's just my husband. Look, look, look! See? You're not in danger! That's his cock in his hand, not a gun! He just wants to watch! See? We were just afraid you'd freak if you knew we liked to do this! So now you know and it's no big deal! Right?" The guy just stared at Trina. "Right!" she continued. "So just let him have his fun and we'll have ours. Now, come on! Finish me off! I'm on the edge going out of my mind!" After Trina's rather impassioned speech, her boyfriend was silently stunned for a couple more seconds as he nervously glanced back and forth between us. His hard-on had only diminished slightly. Suddenly, he kind of smiled and shrugged and said to me, "Oh well, okay, knock yourself out." And before I knew it, he was back on top of Trina, plowing away more heatedly than ever. In no time Trina was yodeling away. It was perhaps her hugest orgasm to date. As for myself, I sat down in a comfortable chair next to the bed and began pounding my stiff meat with great abandon. I thought for sure that this guy was would pull out soft and limp as soon as Trina calmed down a bit but the guy hadn't cum at the same time Trina had, as I thought. He wasn't done with my wife by a long shot. He rose into a kneeling position between her legs. Trina at once rose also on one elbow and reached out to his huge prick. Then, staying on his knees, he moved up and straddled her waist. I knew well what was coming next because I had done the same thing many times. You couldn't look at a woman with Trina's attributes without the image of "titty-fucking" coming right into mind. Trina seemed completely tuned into his plan, and she grabbed the tube of K-Y out of our bedside drawer, flipped open the cap and squirted an enormous load of it her cleavage. The tube had yet to hit the wall after she flung it, when this guy laid his monster right between her gigantic knockers! It looked at first as though she were holding a loaf of French bread to her bosom. At once he started rocking his hips in and out, as Trina pressed her mountains of flesh from the sides, covering him. As the huge knob of flesh popped out of her cleavage, Trina bit and sucked on at the slippery thing like a hungry tigress whose life depended on it. This moment was repeated over and over again at a frantic pace (while I beat my meat) for about one minute -- and then, the biggest, creamiest, whitest load of hot cum sprang from this cock monster and scalded my wife's face and tits and neck. And as she rubbed it into her skin with her left hand, it got all over her wedding ring. And I didn't miss the implication as she looked me right in the eye and licked it off the ring. I loved it. So that was the beautiful start. We've gotten a little more refined since those days, of course. Trina always lets a prospective lay know ahead of time, for instance, that her husband would like to be in the same room and watch. This saves an awful of trouble. Only three times have guys Trina was coming onto gotten too nervous to take her up on this deal. Usually, we have found to our great delight, the men of this world find the prospect of fucking Trina so irresistible that my presence in the room is only a technicality they have to get used to (and it doesn't take long). So... if you should ever find yourself in a bar with live music and you're looking for a little action, and there before you, tapping her high heeled shoe to the music is the most beautiful, sexy, large chest dish you have ever seen -- well, take a second look. I might be sitting at the bar right next to you. And this could be the luckiest night of your life. ©1997, 1998 Standard Internet Corp.

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