It Is Only a Fantasy

IT IS ONLY A FANTASY

"I don't want you to really do it," I said. "It's just a fantasy. It would kill me if you really did that, but I fantasize about it happening. That's all it is, just a fantasy."

"So, you want me to just talk about having sex, but not to do it?" she said, confused by what I had confessed to her, at what I was asking her to do. She frowned.

"Exactly," I said. "I am not sure why I do, but I imagine that and get turned on by thinking of you being fucked by someone else, someone really sexy, but it scares the hell out of me to think of it really happening."

"That makes absolutely no sense," Claire said.

"Totally," I said. "I know it is crazy, but that is the reality of the situation. I just know I fantasize about you with someone else and it gets me really hot to visualize and think about. I guess it is a pretty common fantasy among guys," I said.

"Men are nuts," she said, shaking her head. Finally, she smiled. "At least you're not asking me to do that with somebody else. I hear some husbands want to watch their wives fuck other people. At least you're not asking me to do that," she said with a shrug.

I explained I have been fascinated by that for years, that it scares me, of course, but that the fantasy is something I go back to regularly, nearly every night. I informed her that I had read about the cuckold orientation and didn't feel that applied to me, at least not completely, because I did not feel I could handle her really fucking someone else.

"I just want to imagine it, pretend it is happening, but not really have you do it physically. You know, like pretending you are mountain climbing but being actually afraid of heights, scared to actually scale a mountain. Like being fascinated by scary movies, but not wanting to be chased by a serial killer with a knife and a bloodlust," I said.

"The mind is an amazing thing," I said. "Frightening, but fascinating, bewildering, but breathtaking. I don't understand what I am feeling and why, but I just can't deny it."

"You are strange," she said shaking her head. "So, what you want for me to do is play act with you? You'd like me to talk sex with you, pretend I am having an affair and fucking somebody other than you?"

"When you put it like that, it does sounds crazy," I said.

"And how would you 'put' it?" Claire said.

"I'd say a wife helps her husband accomplish his dream," I said.

"No details?" she asked.

"Not many," I said with a chuckle.

"So, when we go to bed tonight we'll talk?" she said.

"I hope," I said.

"And do stuff," she said.

"All kinds of stuff," I said.

"You want me to describe what my pretend guy is doing to me?" she asked.

"Pretend doing," I said.

"Pretend doing," she repeated.

We sat together and thought about the night that was coming. Finally, she looked at me and smiled. "Okay," she said, "I guess this could be fun. We'll just role play, right?"

"That's all," I said. "Just pretend to do something new and exciting. Okay?"

"Okay," she said with a grin. "I can do that. I'll be a harlot for my husband for one night," she said. "I can pretend to be one nasty lady."

"I'll bet you can," I said.

That night we made a production out of it. She dressed up in a sexy outfit she'd only worn once, to a New Year's dance we went to where we were suppose to dress as swingers. No one did any swinging, but it was a fun night pretending with a lot of sexual joking and fooling around with double entendre as the rule of the night.

She put on her outfit, came out of the bathroom and struck a sexy pose. "You ready to watch your wife get fucked by a stud with a big cock?" she asked. I had never heard her say 'cock' before. "I have been wet all day," she said with a lecherous grin. "You ready to see your timid little wife suck a big cock like a whore?"

"I am," I said.

"My pussy is throbbing," she said. "When he comes you have to just watch. Got that?" she said, pretending to be demanding.

"Yes, ma'am. Whatever you say," I said obediently.

She put her finger against my fly. "Keep that little cock under control, you hear," she said with a smirk. "When he gets here, you stay out of the way."

"Yes, dear," I said, accepting my cuckold role. Then I changed my voice. "My name is Clark," I said in a deeper tone. "Your husband sent me here to fuck you," I said as this new character.

"I hope you have a big cock, Clark," she cooed.

"Big enough to fill you," I said as Clark. "Take off that dress. I am going to fuck you silly, married lady."

"Oh my," she said. "Will you be gentle?"

"Not necessarily," Clark said. "Get on your knees," he said. "I am going to fuck your ass," I said as Clark. "Your husband has to watch. Take off your panties and lift up your dress," he said. "Open your cheeks and relax your backdoor. I am going to grease you up, so get ready."

I put Astroglide on my finger and swabbed some on Claire's anus, then I got behind her and pushed in with one quick push. She grunted, but took my cock without protest. I had never fucked her in the ass before, but after a bit of uncomfortable muttering, she began to groan and it was clear she was enjoying it.

"Oh, yes, Clark. Fuck my ass," she urged. "Show my husband what good fucking really is," she cried, playing her role perfectly, being the wife of a cuckold being fucked by a bull. A bull is a man fucking a cuckold's wife in front of the compliant husband. "Ram it deep. Oh, yes, please. Fuck me like he doesn't," my wife begged her pretend lover.

After she came with cries for "him" to fill her ass with cum, she relaxed on the bed, breathing hard and moaning with delight. "My husband never did that," she muttered.

I cleaned off my cock and got on the bed next to her, placed it close to her mouth. Without hesitating she took it in her hand, put it between her lips, and began sucking. It began to grow back to full size as she worked on the tip with her lips and tongue. She worked on it not as my conservative wife, but as the spouse of a man wanting to watch his mate with a bull's cock in her mouth.

I had never seen her so ravenous, so totally feral and sexually uninhibited. She took it to the back of her throat Linda Lovelace style, held it there, working her lips around the shaft and her tongue below, then she pulled it all of the way out and shoved it back in with one quick motion.

I didn't even know she knew how to do that. I was thrilled.

When I began to come, she held it in front of her mouth, letting me see the spunk shooting between her lips onto her tongue. Smiling as she swallowed the semen she let me see the cum in her mouth, on her tongue before she gulped it down, very much like a porn film we had seen.

"You are wicked," I said. She grinned and wiped the cum from her lips with her forearm. "You like the taste of Clark's cum?" She simply nodded. "You are such a slut," I said, enjoying the game and the woman it had produced. "Would you like Clark to eat your pussy?" I asked.

"Oh, God, yes," she said. "Show my dumbass husband how to eat pussy like it is supposed to be eaten. Suck my cum from inside me like a vacuum," she begged.

I got down on my stomach and put my lips against her slit, covering the whole crevice with my mouth. As I began to suck she started to moan and twist on the bed, shaking her head from side to side. "Eat my fucking pussy," she cried. "Oh, Clark, suck me. Suck me good."

"Does Clark eat your pussy better than your husband?" I asked, lifting my lips from her wet snatch.

"Oh God, yes. Anybody would," she yelled. "He doesn't know how to eat pussy right. Oh, please suck on my clit," she implored. As I did she began to moan. "Ooo, yes, yes, yes, like that."

I kept on until she began to scream and her cream filled my mouth. Fluid gushed from her pussy and I lapped it up, drinking what I could. Her pussy gushed like a fountain and fluid spilled from her slit. When her climax had passed, she held my lips away because she had become so sensitive.

When she relaxed, I put my lips against her cunt and her petals flexed, and I gave one last lick up her labia. She put her hand on top of my head and let her legs hang open, relaxed, spent, and totally satisfied. Her eyes were closed and I crawled up next to her and took her into my arms. I kissed her and let her taste her own pussy.

"Better than your dumbass husband?" I said. She simply nodded. We both slipped into sleep and we didn't stir until almost morning.

We relaxed together when we woke up and didn't speak for awhile. "You like the game?" I asked.

She smiled and said she did. "You want to play it again?"

She nodded. "Tomorrow?" I asked. She cuddled against me.

She whispered in my ear, "You let me fuck Clark again?"

"You like fucking someone else?" I said.

"Variety is the spice of life," she said with a laugh.

The next night we did the same thing, except we changed the name to Julian. In our scenario he was six-three, broad shouldered and blond. She called me Julian all night, and he fucked her until about two. The next morning I asked her how Julian was.

"Maybe we should try a little reality," she said. "I am liking the game, but maybe we should think of some realism. Since it is your fantasy, could you maybe handle the real thing? I am just wondering. Maybe the real thing would add another dimension to our game," she said with a look of unexpected excitement.

"How has pretending another man is fucking me been for you? Do you think you might be able to handle the real thing happening? You said you thought about it often, right? I know you said it scared you, but if I assured you I would never leave you, do you think you could manage it?" she asked.

I was a little surprised, but then I probably shouldn't have been. It was an exciting concept to ask her to participate in. To ask her to pretend to be unfaithful, to be desired by another man other than me would surely be enticing, probably for nearly every woman. I did propose she take part in the fantasy, so the danger was there. I knew that. It even added to the appeal, if I were honest.

I had stirred the beast. She now was tempted to experience someone else. She had a taste of the possible excitement of extramarital sex and I only had myself to blame if it backfired. The question remained: could I handle it. The answer was I did not know. However, deep down I had the urge to find out. It still scared me, but it excited me tremendously at the same time.

"Okay," I said. "Lets try it. Let's get a real Clark."

"You sure?" she said, with a hard smile to ignore.

"I am sure I want you to have what you want, yes," I said before we settled back on the sheets and slept until morning. As I sat on the edge of the bed eight hours later, amazingly, I knew I wanted it for her. I glanced back at her sleeping next to me. She was beautiful, and I knew I loved her enough to give her what she wanted, what she needed, what perhaps we both needed.

I thought about her enthusiasm as we playacted about Clark and Julian, and the amazing personality change that came over her as we pretended she was fucking two handsome strangers. I was amazed by the transition I'd seen that night and the person she seemed to become. The excitement in her face, the lust in her voice, and the wonderful lechery in her eyes. It was simply wonderful.

She became a sexual person I hardly recognized, but she also was the person that I was in love with and was elated by her vivaciousness and sexual energy. It added to my excitement to see her enjoying herself so much and totally involved in the sexual scenario we played out in our bed.

The idea that started as a mental exercise in sexual fantasy was morphing into a real life adventure into extramarital realism. Not only was it moving things into the real world, it was also exciting the hell out of me as I thought about actually doing what we had playacted previously. It did scare me, like it had before, but it was truly an exciting sexual path to take.

Not only had I thought about it, masturbated to images while I stretched out next to her in bed, or while I was deep in her pussy as we fucked, but I had researched the idea of wife sharing and HotWives in articles or on the internet. I learned that I was not alone in the attraction to cuckold-type activities. Since the early seventies the numbers of like-minded men had been growing, and now it was one of the more common sexual departures from monogamy.

Men in countries all over the world are bringing in other men to their beds to have sex with their wives. Whatever the cause, wife sharing is an idea that is spreading and becoming a popular sexual diversion.

I began to get excited about telling her that I had resolved not only to try, but that I could handle it as well and was eager for us to actually do it. I waited until we were getting ready for bed, watched her get undressed, and patted the bed as I pulled back the sheet and blanket.

"What?" she said, being able to see I had something to say.

"I have been thinking," I said.

"Not that again," she said with a grin.

"Okay, yeah right," I said. Then I kissed her. "About what you asked me to think about. Well, I'd like us to try it," I said. "Not pretend, but actually do it," I said. "The more I think about it, the more I realize that we should do it."

We hugged and she whispered in my ear. "You're sure?"

"I am," I said. "You need to decide who you'd like. Any ideas?"

"Lots," she said. "I have been thinking too. I think I'd like bigger than Clark or Julian," she said. "No offense."

"None taken," I said. "Too bad there is not a bigness catalogue," I said.

"I have also been talking to some of my friends. A few have done what we are thinking of," she said with a smile. "I have some recommendations," she added grinning. She took her phone off the night stand, opened it and thumbed to her pictures. She then turned the phone towards me and scrolled down to two photos. Each was of a nude man, from knees to over their heads. Both men were smiling, muscular, and well-endowed. One had long blond hair, the other short cropped hair, and both were sporting erections, probably both close to seven or eight inches.

"Both are gigolos and both specialize in servicing wives," she said. "I guess there is quite a demand for wife fuckers. They charge, but it is listed as psychological therapy, so it is tax deductible," she said with a laugh.

"So, do you have a preference?" I asked.

She smiled and nodded, then she pointed to the blond. He had broad shoulders, a cocky smile, and six pack abs. He also had an erect eight inch monster cock, which stuck straight out at a slight upward angle.

"You have done your research," I said. "You pretty sure I would come around?" I asked.

"I was, yes," she said with a smile. "You were pretty hot for me to trot," she told me with a nod. "I know you pretty well," she said. "Want to practice?" she asked. I answered by pulling her against me and kissing her on the shoulder.

My erection, nowhere as long as the blond guy, slipped into her easily since she was so wet, obviously aroused by the possibilities of being fucked by the surfer dude with the eight inch dick.

I repeatedly slid into her and she groaned and called me Julian. Her hips came up to meet mine and our bodies slapped against one another, the sound of sex filling our bedroom. I was between her parted legs and she put a hand on each of my hips and pulled me against her. I picked up the pace and she began to moan.

"Oh, god, yes, oh, my. Yes, like that," she said, repeatedly thrusting her hips against me.

When we came it was almost simultaneously, and she pulled back her hips and slipped me out because she was so sensitive her pussy could not be touched again for awhile. As we savored the afterglow, I whispered, "Not Mr. Baywatch, but at least I can get you to come."

"And I will come for you with Mr. Baywatch. I promise," she said.

"And I will watch you come with Mr. Baywatch," I said. "I promise too."

She went to sleep in my arms and I think we both dreamed of her fucking the blond hunk with the monster cock. When we woke we cuddled for awhile before getting up. As we had toast and coffee in the kitchen we talked about what night we should have the lifeguard over for the big event. We decided to ask for Saturday to give her a day to sleep late, even go longer if we could afford it. I had no idea what a gigolo cost per night, but I thought it was money well spent.

We called the service that night, dialing the number that was listed on the photo she had downloaded on her phone and asked for Mr. Baywatch for Saturday, gave his code, our credit card number to a very pleasant voice that sounded like a receptionist at church giving information about Sunday school. It was the kind of voice that makes you want to chat with her.

When I hung up I looked at Claire and smiled. "Well, he's coming Saturday night," I said. "You excited?"

"As a whore when the fleet is in port," she said.

For the rest of the week neither of us could think of anything else. At work I imagined watching them. At home I tried to keep my mind on other things, but nothing worked. If I closed my eyes, I saw her with him. If I watched television, my mind wandered to Saturday. It was, perhaps, the most exciting thing I can remember. She too was preoccupied. I beat off maybe ten times, thinking of what they'd do, how they'd do it, and what it would look like.

I helped her prepare: pick her outfit, shave her mound, and wash her body in the shower. Neither of us talked about it, but both of us constantly thought about her night with her blond lifeguard and his massive meat. She tried to read, but it was no use. All day her neck was flushed, her cheeks were pink, and her pulse was high.

I must have looked at the clock a hundred times, but it seemed to barely move throughout the day. We must have smiled at one another twice that much, but we left the conversation unsaid. Our blond gigolo was to arrive at five, and at four forty-five we sat in the family room with our hands in our laps.

At five minutes after five the doorbell ringing sent a shockwave through us and we both stood up and looked at the door, then at each other, as if we couldn't believe the time had finally come. It was a 'what should we do' moment, and it took us a minute to move.

We went to the door together, and when we opened it Mr. Baywatch completely ignored me, reached out and without a word took her hands and pulled her to him. After kissing her, he stepped back and said, "I am Buck. I am also yours until midnight. Is he going to watch?"

Overwhelmed by his bearing, she simply nodded. He finally turned to me. "Go take your place," he ordered. Amazingly, without protest I turned and walked to the bedroom and crossed the room to the chair in the corner.

A few minutes later they came in and went to the bed.

"Take off your clothes," he told her forcefully. He stood while she took of the sexy dress we had selected for her. Then she unsnapped her bra, lifted it over her shoulders, then set it aside. She put her thumbs under the waist of her panties, then slid them over her bottom and down her

legs. She kicked them off and left them on the floor, then she waited, as if she was expecting him to tell her what to do next.

Finally, he said, "Get on the bed and spread your legs as wide as you can and wait for the biggest cock you've ever seen or had in your wet and willing pussy." He was right, her pussy was soaked and waiting for his huge cock to slid in, and so was I. I couldn't believe how eager I was to see him fill her with dick. His harsh orders also sent a charge through me that I didn't expect.

Not only did his telling her he was going to fuck her give me a thrill, but amazingly watching them had given me a throbbing hard on, and I unzipped my pants to release it.