Call It What You Want 1

Wife Sharing, Swinging, Hot Wives, Cuckolding, whatever you want to call it, it is simply: Getting pleasure from seeing or hearing about your wife having sex with other men. Why in hell would anyone want that? I have absolutely no fucking idea. Oh I've read all the literature and heard all the theories, have listened to countless "experts" explain the "pathology", but to me they all sounded like a train-load of horse manure. What I do know for certain, and have no doubt about, is that I'm one of those guys who get off on my wife getting fucked by others. I relish the thought of the "little lady" getting thoroughly porked and pleasured by someone else. I love hearing the raunchy details, the more explicit the better, listening to her descriptions, seeing photos or videos they took from a tripod, and I really, really dig watching her in person being done by some Romeo with a huge horse-cock. The bigger the better.

It all started for us after she got hit on during our vacation in Spain, and--although she didn't take him up on it--I knew right then that I was one of those men who want to see their wife fuck someone else. I could not get the images out of my mind of what it would be like if she screwed him. I pictured them together fucking in every possible position, every scenario, doing everything imaginable, and that became my favorite masturbatory fantasy, imagining my wife sucking, fucking, or being eaten by some hunky dude, especially the Spaniard.

I asked her how she felt about being hit on by the handsome Spanish waiter and she said she was flattered. "Tempted?" I asked. She gave me a funny look and frowned. "Well, let me put it this way, " I said, "did he make your pussy wet?"

She admitted he had given her a bit of a tingle in her panties, but she tried to assure me that it was only a whim brought on by flattery, a one-time thing. I told her straight out that it turned me on when he made the pass at her, that it wouldn't be a one-time thing unless he was the only man on earth who could give her that tingle, and I said she shouldn't limit herself so. She then asked me if I was one of those guys who wanted to watch their wives fuck other men. "Maybe so," I said. That night we had the hottest session of fucking we'd had in years, and afterwards I commented on how hot the Spaniard had made us both. "He seemed to give you more than a tingle.

After that we found a website on the computer in our hotel room for men who get off having their wives hook up with other men. Just reading about it gave me more of a charge than I could believe, and we read through dozens of blogs by guys who described their experiences and told about their passion for watching. I didn't know if Claire would go along with anything like that, but she did read through all of them with me.

Actually, the Spaniard had asked me if I'd mind if she came up to his room, telling me I had a very sexy wife and he'd love to have sex with her. I said it was up to her and she politely turned down his offer, thanking him for the "nice" compliments. "What if I had gone with him?" she asked after we found the website.

"If I'm really like the men from the group on the website, then I'd have asked you to tell me all the sloppy details," I said.

"You could do that?"

"Don't know," I replied, "but lets find out. Just thinking about it now gets me hard again."

"She began to laugh and said," I guess I could fuck other men for the sake of my husband."

"Who could you fuck?" I asked, getting more and more turned on by the idea.

"It may be fun to go out and find someone I like, you know, see if it works out," she said. "Maybe that handsome waiter, but I don't think I would be okay with you fucking other women, if that's where this is leading."

"On the website, if you remember, they said the men were not all that interested in fucking other women," I reminded her. "I am more excited by the idea of you fucking someone else than I am of me screwing other gals."

"Seriously?"

Seriously," I said.

We talked about it in bed that night. Talked. Fucked. Then we talked about it some more. It was nearly three in the morning when we finally drifted off and slept until almost noon. Luckily, the next day was Sunday and we had no commitments.

In the morning we kissed, cuddled, and talked briefly about the night before. She wanted to know if I still felt the same. "You mean do I still want you to fuck somebody?" She nodded and kissed me. "Still," I said. "Even more this morning than before. I can't think about anything else.

We had sex that afternoon before getting up and it was wonderful: tender and intimate, slow and drawn out, and I stayed in her as we talked about the Spanish waiter. We decided to go out the next weekend specifically to find her a mate. I asked what qualities she wanted and she listed some, starting with tall and handsome, nice eyes (whatever that is), and I asked if cock size was important.

She threw back the covers and took my flaccid penis in her hand, looking at it carefully. "In terms of what's normal, how big are you?" My cock began to get erect as she held it and when it was full size she kissed the tip. "Is this average?"

"I'm pretty normal," I said. "A really big cock would be eight inches or bigger erect. I've seen guys in porn flicks in the one foot category, but that's really rare."

"Eight inches I think I'd like. Twelve seems too big to do much with," she said with a laugh. "I think I'd like to try eight or nine inches," she said, chuckling at her newfound naughtiness. She placed her mouth over the end of my cock. "Yes, I think I'd like to do a little research," Claire said as she lifter her lips from my tip.

Over the next week we both were in a constant state of arousal as I helped her plan her first outing to fulfill my Cuckolding desires. I helped her pick out an outfit, talked with her about whether to wear underwear or not, and even shaved her pussy for her in the bathroom one afternoon. It was a tremendous turn on for both of us to it together. While I shaved her mound and the area beside her labia, I talked about having a eight inch dick sliding inside of her. "That sounds marvelous," she said with a sigh.

"It does for me too," I said. "I hope whoever we find fucks you really well. I see you're getting exciting just thinking about it." She was lubricating profusely and I licked off a layer of moisture from her swollen labia.

"Is there anything you don't want me to do?" she asked.

I thought about it for a moment, then I said there was nothing she couldn't do. "Fuck him, suck him, swallow his cum, whatever you feel like doing. Fall in love with him, just don't fall out of love with me," I said grinning.

We went back to the same restaurant, sat at the same table, ordered the most expensive item on the menu, and got the same waiter as before. He smiled cheerfully when he saw Claire, and I asked him if he still wanted to take her home. Without looking at me he nodded, keeping his eyes on my wife. "There is just one thing," I said. "I have to come to. I want to watch."

"No problem," he said. "I work until midnight. Enjoy your meal and then I'll enjoy your wife. You can bring all of your relatives, if you want."

"Just you, my wife, and me," I said.

"Have you watched before?" he asked.

I shook my head. "First time," I said.

"We will give you a good show, senior," he said with only a slight accent.

We ate our meal and Claire was clearly excited. Her slender neck redden the minute he came to take our order and the color deepened as the night went on. The closer to dessert we got, the darker the blush of her cheeks and neck.

"Francisco is pretty smooth," I said when he brought our creme brûlée. "I noticed you didn't eat all your lobster."

"I don't want to be too full to enjoy my after-dinner treat," she said with a wicked smile. "Are you sure about this?"

"I've had a hard on since the salad," I replied.

"I'm sitting in a wet spot," she said, grinning.

"Good. You will be nice and ready for whatever Francisco has to offer," I said.

I could tell by the preoccupied look on my wife's face that she was thinking about all the possibilities of what our Spanish waiter might have to offer. A couple of times during dinner I saw her glancing at Francisco's fly and imagining what might be making that oversized bulge in his pants. "Excited?" I asked as we ate. She nodded and looked towards the waiter. "Nervous?" I asked. Again she nodded, but this time she smiled and said she was more eager than anxious. "Good girl," I said. "Let's hope he has a lot to offer." She covered her laugh with her fist, as if she was stifling a cough, and nodded agreement.

Francisco drove a Italian sports car and we followed him to his apartment about a mile outside of town. He led us to the door, served us wine, and we chatted as we sipped our drinks. Without a word he stood and motioned with his head to a stairway. Claire and I followed him up to his room.

Once inside he removed his coat and took off his tie, put on music, then turned to Claire held up both hands, asking her to dance. I sat down in a chair against the wall and watched them dance. "Are you nervous?" he asked. She shook her head, then rethought her answer and nodded. "You tell me if you want to stop," he said.

As they slowly danced he began helping her out of her clothes. First he undid the buttons of her blouse, then lifted it over her shoulders. She told me later that his manner put her at ease and by the time she was nude she said that she felt very relaxed. He unsnapped her bra and helped her out of her panties. She kicked them away and they began to kiss as he unsnapped his belt and she returned the favor, removing his clothes as they moved from side to side, dancing as slow as possible.

Once they were both nude they stood at the foot of his bed, kissing. He held her face in his hands and they shared tongues for nearly a minute. Finally, he led her to the bed, looked over at me and nodded, then helped her stretch out on her back. Without prompting, she opened her legs and positioned them wide apart. Taking her cue, he crawled between her thighs and put his face against her pussy.

She put her head back as he swiped with his tongue a couple of times up and down her slit, then he pushed his mouth forward and engulfed her sex with his lips.

She began moaning as Francisco sucked over her entire vulva, probably waggling his tongue between her lips.

Claire looked over at me and smiled as the Spaniard ate her pussy, moving his head quickly from side to side. "Your wife tastes wonderful," he said, glancing over at me. I smiled and nodded without answering. "I love the taste of a married woman," he said.

She told me later that she got lightheaded when he said that. "It was so naughty but so intense, especially with you right there watching us. I didn't really know how I'd feel," she said later, "but having you there made it even more erotic. I love fucking for you to watch."

Francisco ate her to an explosive orgasm, then crawled up her body and fucked her to at least two more before they collapsed in a heap. I watched them sleep for about fifteen minutes, then let myself out and went to his kitchen and made myself some coffee. After an hour I went back to the bedroom and knocked.

I heard my wife's ask me to come in, then went back to my chair and sat down. He was on his back on the bed and she straddled him, kneeling with a leg on each side of his hips, lowering herself slowly up and down over his cock, forcing it inside of her with each downward movement. Each time it drew out as she lifted up on her knees, a wonderful slurping sound filled the room.

"Are you enjoying our trip to Spain?" I asked.

"Oh God yes," she said without slowing down, continuing her up and down rhythm over Francisco. "Maybe we should fuck our way across Europe," she said as she bounced, his cock thrusting repeatedly into her.