Arabian Nights 6

Another day, another dollar.

I was waiting at the subway station for my wife to pick me up. She had taken the day off to go on a job interview. I jumped in the car. It was early summer, and she was wearing a cute floral-patterned sundress and a big smile, the picture of a demure suburban housewife happily picking up her husband.

"I was a bad girl today."

"Yeah. How'd the interview go? What'd you do?"

"Well, Mohammed called me. I told him I was busy today and had to go for a job interview, and he volunteered to come along.

He came to the interview with me, and we went back to his apartment. I just barely got here in time."

My cock immediately started getting hard. The interview was like 10:30 in the morning. Backing out the travel time, she must have spent half the day fucking her latest boyfriend.

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Want to know when you know your wife has dropped the pretense of a hotwife and embraced the lifestyle of a full blown cuckoldress?

A sure sign is when you come home from work, and find her sitting in the kitchen with a guy you've never met, having a cigarette, naked under her satin bathrobe, with her firm round tits hanging out.

"Hey. Say hi to Mohammed. He's just leaving. Mohammed, this is my husband."

After he and I shook hands, she walked him out, stopping at the front door where they locked lips in a deep kiss.

As she tells it, he had pulled up next to her at a traffic light, ostensibly to ask directions. The directions she gave him apparently led straight to our house, up the stairs, and into our marital bed.

She didn't need to elaborate. I knew when I walked in the kitchen. She had that freshly-fucked look all over her face of a woman who has just finished riding a big cock to multiple orgasms.

"He's from Egypt. He was showing me his wedding pictures. The frigging pyramids are right there in the background!"

I think his exotic Middle Eastern looks are what initially attracted her. He had the look of a young Omar Sharif. That, and his enthusiastic and persistent pitch, as he made it clear to her at four different stoplights that he was very interested in Her. Much to her delight, he was expert at laying pipe (she really loves a good hard fucking). Every Jewish American Princess should have herself an Arabian Prince!

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All that was going through my mind when she said, "He invited us to dinner tonight, with him and his two younger brothers. We'll go home and you can change. We've got plenty of time to get there."

At home, I quickly got changed and headed downstairs.

"Hang on" she said, "I want to freshen up a little before we go." She returned, still in the sundress but no longer looking like a demure housewife. She looked stunning; the morning's subtle look had been replaced by deep ruby red lips with smoldering super-smoky blue eye shadow and heavy mascara. Looked like she was planning on more than dinner tonight.

I could barely keep my mind on driving, my thoughts bouncing between thinking about them fucking all afternoon and wondering what was on tap tonight.

Mohammed introduced us as "my friends" to his two brothers who were visiting from Egypt; both looked to be in their early twenties and, based on how they were looking at her, probably knew that she had been putting out for Mohammed. We all enjoyed a traditional Middle Eastern meal and drank lots of red wine. After dinner, he fired up his hookah, and we all got pleasantly stoned as we listened to Egyptian music and Mohammed regaled us with tales of life in the shadow of the pyramids.

His brothers were both drumming with the music when the traditional Saidi belly dancing song started. Looking at my wife, Mohammed said, "Why don't you dance for us?"

She got up, draped a towel across her face, and began seductively swaying her hips to the music. Twirling across the floor on her stilettoes, she danced in front of each one of them, bending over and shaking her ass, making eye contact and sensually licking her lips. The more attention she paid to them, the redder my face got as the two brothers understood that the stories Mohammed had told them about this married slut must be true. When the swaying hips ramped up to lascivious pelvic grinding, the brothers began chanting "Take it off, take it off".

The bad news about a sundress striptease is there's not much to take off. The good news is that within seconds my wife slipped off her dress, and continued dancing, clad in her red satin corset, crotchless panties, and garter belt. The demi cup top showcased her fulsome breasts and pert nipples. Between her legs, her pussy lips, still red and swollen from the day's fuckfest, thrust out from her beautiful blond bush.

At this point, the bulge in the brothers' eyes were only matched by the bulges in their pants. Mohammed quickly dismissed his brothers for the night, as he and my wife headed for his bedroom. She motioned for me to follow.

She lay down on his bed, and we stripped, lying down on either side of her. While we fondled her tits, she stroked both our cocks. I couldn't help but notice how small my inchworm looked in her hand, compared to the long, fat, thickly veined dick she grasped in her other hand. She faced him and hungrily jammed her tongue in his mouth. Mohammed then slid his fingers inside her, and built up from a slow steady pace to a finger-fucking frenzy.

"Fuck me, lover. Fuck me again with that big fucking cock of yours."

She spread her legs wide open, and Mohammed rolled over and smoothly mounted her. She groaned as his man meat easily slid deep into her gaping pussy. He began slowly and methodically pumping her honeypot, pulling out the full length of his fuck stick, then nuzzling her love button with its fat head before sinking it balls deep again.

Flat on her back, legs up in the air, with her Arabian stallion beginning to pound her hard, she turned her head towards me, pursed her sexy red lips, and blew me a kiss. I got the message, and took up a chair to give her space.

As Mohammed accelerated his piledriving, she began that rapid shallow breathing and cooing that signals an imminent orgasm.

"Give it to me, lover. Give it to me again. I need that hot load flooding me again."

I watched as she dug her nails in his ass cheeks and pulled her lover deep inside. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she came all over his love muscle. Mohammed's balls tightened up, his ass muscles flexed, and I watched as his cock pulsated and he busted his nut in her hungry hole.

She turned, started laughing, and pointed at me and my spent dicklet.

"Look at that, lover. My husband's so pathetic, he cums just from watching!"

Turning to me, she said, "OK, honey, now pack up your puny popgun, and go get the car while I get dressed. It's getting late, and I've got to work tomorrow."