Crossing A Line In Our Marriage

This story is the property of the writer Kalimaxos. Any unauthorized reproduction or reprint without the express authorization of the author is strictly prohibited.

My characters are often flawed, and like real life, my stories are a shitshow.

Warning: You are reading an erotic story on an erotica site.

Question: If you pass moral judgment on this story and others, why are you on Literotica reading smut? So spare us your righteous indignation and judgementalism. But if you stick around and read this, then you are one of us: People who do not get on their high horse to judge others.

Also, this is not couples' therapy or a how-to manual. Only and purely entertainment.

Post any rude or denigrating comments on my story, and I will delete them. Post any threatening or violent comments, and I'll report you. My story will not be a platform giving you a platform to spew your hate.

So glad we got that out of the way.

***

01. How did I get to this?

How did I get to this? I ask myself over and over.

"Do it," I hear him say as he grabs my hair and pulls my head back. "When I say on your knees, you drop. Understand?"

The pain is less excruciating than the humiliation as he shakes me to break my resistance and then forces me to my knees. I gasp.

"Please don't," I plead.

"Fuck that," he scoffs as my knees hit the carpeted floor.

Thank goodness for small amenities. He could have forced me on the hard floor. The power of his hands on me reminds me of his forcefulness as he so effortlessly overpowered me earlier. Him, being my husband's friend and guest for dinner.

No. Jesse Brace is not built like a tank with huge arm muscles. He is lithe and slim, the way runners and some martial artists are -- those who focus on aerobic exercise and calisthenics over lifting weights. His abdomen is ripped, and there is not an ounce of fat there or on his waist. He is naked, having tossed his shorts and t-shirt on the floor when we came into the bedroom. My and my husband's bedroom!

The thought of where I am shames me. Why not the guest room where he is supposed to sleep? Why here? Oh, I get it. It's a power play. To use another man's wife where they sleep, on their marital bed.

He toys with me, maneuvering my head toward his towering manhood and then pulling it away. My breasts are exposed between the flaps of my blouse he tore open just minutes before. My right nipple and boob still tingle and ache from the rough mauling he gave them in the kitchen as I hear Jesse laugh at me.

"That's right, you little tease. Teach you to parade your stuff to me all afternoon and every time I visit. I know your stupid husband thinks it's cute to let you show your stuff to other men. To let them wonder what you got and what you can do."

"Jesse, please stop this," I beg now. "Please, I can't."

"Oh, but you will," he says, gazing into my scared eyes with glee and the satisfaction of a man who knows he has a woman where he wants her. "And when you do, you better not bite me, or I'll bust you up. Do you hear me?"

"Yes... I won't. Please don't... haven't you..." had enough, I try to say.

"I've just begun," he snickers. "Angela, you are in for a long night."

I whimper in despair because I know that no one will come to my aid. Not my family, not my friends, neighbors, the police, or my husband, who is passed out in the living room. I am at my tormentor's mercy. And as his thick crown approaches my lips, I smell his and mine mixed scents. The scent arouses and shames me.

I try to turn my face, but his hand comes down on the side of my cheek. That will leave a mark, I know. A mark for my husband to see. Doesn't he care?

"OK, have it your way. We'll start with you kissing and licking your way up and down it. Show this new cock how much you appreciate what it did to you... For you, and that you want more."

I look up at him with a combination of curiosity and shame.

'How does he know?'

I ask myself. He nods as he smirks.

"Oh yeah, I can tell you want it again. You want me to make you," he chuckles. "To force you."

He is right. I do. It grants me the last thread of dignity left that I resisted and only gave in when he made me do it. Before, I had no control. I'm hoping he does the same again. In taking what he wants, he will save me from giving it to him. But...

"Open that mouth and plant those lips on the side of it... Oh yes... that's it. Now, put your tongue against it."

I sob as my lips latch on his fat shaft, and my tongue touches it. My spit bathes it. I now only smell our combined essence, but I taste it. The taste is as familiar as that of other men mixed with mine.

"Flatten your tongue on it and use your lips... that's it... all the way down. Down to my balls. You, teasing whore. Back up to the top... the other side now."

His hand still holds my ponytail, guiding my head and mouth to where he wants me on his prick. I find myself doing as he asks, kissing and licking my way down the opposite side of his thick prick.

'Maybe if I use my hand...'

I think as I reach for his shaft. It's so big and thick. My small hand barely covers half his great length. My fingers fail to encircle his stupendous girth.

'How can anyone be this big!'

"That's it," Jesse groans in satisfaction. "Stroke that cock as you lick your way down. Now suck my balls, you stupid whore. Suck them. One at a time."

He is shaved everywhere. It makes his cock look even bigger... His balls hang just under it like fruit calling to me. I could take one in my mouth and distract him. I do... and am thankful he hasn't shoved that massive dick in my mouth. Maybe he will be satisfied with this; I delude myself as I stroke his meaty shaft. If I just suck his balls and stroke him, he may cum and make me... take it in my mouth.

"That's it... roll them around. Use that tongue on them. Fuck yeah."

'Oh, god! Why am I getting wet from this?'

He pulls my hair again, and his nuts plop out of my hungry mouth.

"Enough of that," he tells me menacingly. "Now... open that pretty mouth."

I hesitate briefly and regret it. A harsh slap hits the side of my head, knocking me about and making me blur. As I try to get my wits about me, he grabs my jaw, forcing it down.

"You bit me bitch, and I will beat you black and blue," he growls before placing his spongy, thick head on my lips. "Tongue out... flat..."

Somehow, I see through the haze and obey his order. And then it happens. He gives a shove with his hips, and his thick cock first touches my tongue, then travels over it to enter my overwhelmed mouth.

"Wrap them fine lips around it," he says.

I don't know why. But I no longer fight Jesse, and I do as he commands. Making sure my lips cover my teeth, I open wide to accommodate his thickness and latch on to his shovel-like bell head.

"Yeah!" he exhales as if he had been holding his breath. "Use that tongue under it and suck the head... hold my balls with your hand. Come on... no slacking off. That's it. Suck that cock."

Oh yes. As I lean forward and crane my neck to pleasure him, I know exactly how I got here.

***

Say hi to my friend Jesse, Love.

That's how my husband introduced me to his friend - Jesse Brace.

Jesse shook my hand as I smiled at him like I do to all my husband's friends. Ned has this thing about me being somewhere between friendly and flirty with his buddies. And those he wants me to do that with are usually handsome, and he calls them

'My friend.'

"This is my wife, Angela," Ned introduced us. "This is..."

"I'm Jesse," he interrupted my husband, taking over. "Jesse Brace."

"Hi," I replied, offering my hand and giving Jesse Brace a beaming smile to make a dead man's dick twitch. "Nice to meet you. Mr. Brace."

Ned smirked and nodded in approval with that,

'Oh yeah, that's my wife,'

pride.

"Please, just call me Jesse," he replies. "It's great to meet you. After all, Ned here has been singing your praises."

"Has he now?" I asked, smiling as I looked from Jesse toward my blushing husband.

"As much as he said you are a knockout, I think he didn't do you justice."

I swooned inside. I mean, what woman, married or not, doesn't want to be complemented by a handsome and fit man? And let me tell you, we married women crave the compliments of men other than our husbands immensely. Praise and attention from our husbands are expected. But from a different man, they can be intoxicatingly divine for our female ego.

So, yes. I gushed, blushed, and felt my nipples tingle under my blouse.

"Why thank you," I batted my eyelashes at the manly Jesse.

I wore a denim miniskirt, sandals, and a white front button blouse. It was early summer, and I already had a nice all-body tan from sunning myself in the backyard. And in the next hour, Jesse inspected every inch of my tanned flesh he could see as Ned cooked on the back porch grill. I drank wine as the boys nursed their beers, and I sat with legs crossed, showing him across Jesse, showing him my toned figure. I am only five-two, but my legs are well-proportioned to my slim figure.

Just as Ned wants me to, I stand and walk around as they talk, letting Jesse stare at my figure. It is a game my husband wants me to play with his few select friends, but to be honest, I find myself aroused knowing they ogle my curves and the figure I have been blessed with. I get aroused by it almost in the same way I do when I parade myself at the beach in my tiny bikinis. Ned loves that, especially when men stare.

Ned and Jesse were chatting about some golf thing, but I could see our guest gazing my way. When our eyes met, he did not look away as some men do. Instead, his eyes would linger and even make contact with mine. I returned the gaze for a second or two, then looked away as the intensity with which he gazed back scared me. Unlike other men, he did not seem to care that my husband could see him staring me up and down.

When Ned excused himself to go to the bathroom, Jesse moved to stand close to me. The closeness and his manly scent were both arousing and threatening at the same time. This one is beyond any of our other experiences with Ned's friends. Yet, knowing that my husband was around to protect me relaxes me. It is just some harmless flirting like other times. Right?

"Thanks for having me over," our handsome and intense guest said.

"It's a pleasure," I replied, trying to keep my composure.

I can sense his eyes on me. Then his hip bumped into mine and lingered.

"You're a beautiful woman," he said as he made eye contact again.

"Thank you," I replied with a barely audible whisper.

"Ned is a lucky man."

"He sure is," I cleared my throat, wondering where my husband was.

I looked at this hunk of a man in my kitchen and found myself having those thoughts again. Thoughts my husband has placed in my head about fit men in our living space. Men he likes to see me tease and flirt with. It's a fun game we have played before, but there is something different about this, Jesse.

It's the way he is looking at me like he knows and expects something of me. I became scared then and tried to move away, but he was in the way; Jesse was. He was... is, so big and imposing. His eyes gazed into mine, and my breath seemed to catch in my throat.

We hear the bathroom door open and Ned walking back. Then there is a thud as if Ned has hit the hallway wall.

"Ned?" I asked, worried. "Are you OK?"

I tried to move past Jesse, who finally let me get past him. In the hallway, I find Ned slumped on the wall.

"Ned, What's wrong?"

"I think I've had a lot to drink," my husband replies.

I had warned him not to before Jesse came over, but Ned had seemed pensive and drank as if he needed liquid courage for something. When I pressed him, he explained that Jesse was investing money in our startup, which made him nervous.

"Be polite and extra nice to him," Ned had said just before Jesse Brace had come over. "Give him the treatment."

I remembered nodding in agreement, thinking I would flirt and toss in some charm with our usual hospitality for his friends. Only there would be more riding on this visit. Which... is why Ned had been drinking and why he was now slumped from excessive alcohol consumption.

Jesse moved past me and reached for Ned.

"Let's help you to the sofa," he said as he helped my husband up.

I got on the other side to help, and together, we took Ned to the living room. We sat there for a while chatting, with me thinking Ned should stop drinking. I even expected Jesse to go home early. But that was not to be.

Instead, my husband's friend and business investor was refiling Ned's glass... and mine.

"Relax, Angela," Jesse Brace said to me as the evening progressed, and my husband started to nod out.

"But..." I tried to protest.

"No problem," Jesse said, checking my husband's state by lifting his eyelid. "Ned is out for the count."

"I... maybe you can help me get him to bed," I suggested.

"Oh," Jesse responds, refilling my glass. "He is fine where he is. Drink up."

"I've had too much already..." I protest.

"I insist," Jesse said, coming to sit next to me. "The night is young. We can entertain each other."

Just then, I had a moment of reservation. It was the way he said the word "entertain." But Jesse's smile and confidence allayed my concerns. His body settled next to mine as he nodded for me to drink. We chatted some more about things like our place and how he liked it. But his eyes remained on me, taking in every inch of my flesh out on display. Then I remembered!

"The food on the grill!" I said.

"I turned it off," Jesse reassured me.

"Oh, thank you. I better get it going again. What kind of hostess am I not to feed you, at least."

"At least," he replied as he followed me out to the back deck.

I was slightly tipsy as we went outside, and I heard him shut the sliding door.

"You have a nice secluded backyard," he said, looking around.

"We're the last house in this new culdesac," I said after I started the fire again. "We have steaks."

"Sounds good," he said.

I felt him just behind me.

"But I have something else in mind," I heard him say just as I felt his hands come around my waist and cup my breasts.

I gasped and tried to move away. But Jesse Brace was strong and determined as he mauled my tits over my blouse.

"These are nice," he said, breathing on my neck.

I tried struggling away, but he kept me trapped between his roaming hands and his chest, preventing me from flight.

"Jesse," I begged. "Please... don't."

"But I want to."

"I'm married... My husband is just inside."

I struggled. I honestly did.

"Good," he hissed. "You're feisty. Fight me."

"I'll scream," I said in a last gasp of futility.

"You do that," he replied as he found and twisted my nipples.

But I didn't. Instead, I continued trying to escape.

"Don't... I don't want you to."

"Your nipples are hard."

"Because you are playing with them."

"I bet you are turned on."

Fuck! I was feeling the heat all over my body as he dragged me to the reclining sun chair. Then, in one swoop, he yanked my blouse up, freeing my breasts to plop into his large, warm hands.

"Oh God!" I heard myself say as he mauled my tits, sending shivers up my spine.

I tried to free myself again, but he was just too strong. And his thumbs and forefingers were playing havoc on my sensitive nips. Before I knew it, he spun me around and planted his lips on mine, stifling my protests. As he pulled me close enough to feel his erection on my belly, his tongue pried my lips apart and probed my mouth. My hands tried to push him away, but he was too strong.

With one hand around me, he reached for the bottom of my denim skirt and pulled it up. His free hand reached under and cupped my ass, over my thong, pulling me to him. And he was still kissing me... if you can call the way his mouth covered mine and his tongue sought mine.

"I bet you're all wet down there," he said, cupping my mount. "It's nice and warm."

"Please stop."

"You know I won't."

"I'm married."

"I know. That's what makes it better... exciting."

His hand grasped my underwear and tore them down. I felt his hand between my legs and tried to close them together in vain -- I was too late.

"And freshly shaved," he opined as he felt my unprotected vulva. "Let's see how wet you are."

"Nooo!" I moaned as he pried my legs apart, pushing me down on the sun lounger.

"That's it, spread for me."

I wasn't spreading willingly. I fell on my back, and my legs splayed apart as I tried to regain my balance. But it was too late.

I had read someplace that a woman in my position knows the moment struggling is futile and that she is about to be overpowered and taken by a man. I continued struggling as much as I could, but there was no stopping him from having his way. He was too strong, and I was too small. As fit as I was, I was no match for a man six foot tall and in his prime.

As his upper body pinned me on the lounger, his right hand roamed where it pleased. His strong legs kept mine apart as he cupped and sampled my womanhood to his heart's desire.

"You smell good," he said. "Like a woman in heat."

Damn him, but the struggling and all the attention his hands gave my young body started to take their toll. A woman's flesh does not know that the man touching her is not her husband. That is a modern notion of fidelity that our body, descendant of ancient human stock, does not care about. All it knows is that it is being stimulated, touched, licked, kissed... fingered. And yes, his long fingers had found my precious opening and began penetrating me.

First, one finger breached me, finding my wetness, followed by a second. I felt ashamed that I was wet and that Jesse knew it. I hoped he would say nothing, but that was not to be.

"Oh, Angela," he goaded me. "You are so wet down there. Did I make you wet?"

I stayed silent and ashamed. No longer able to stop him from probing me, I tried one last time to push Jesse Brace off me. But that was not to be. Just like the article had said, I knew my moment of being involuntarily ravished had come. My husband's friend was too strong. His left hand found my breast as the fingers of his right continued finger fucking me, starting fires inside me that I had not expected.

His mouth saught and covered my left breast. As he continued fingering me from below, his lips and tongue assaulted my nipple as his hand cupped and did the same to the other. I almost cried in frustration. It came out as a mewing moan that drove him to more.

"That's some nice pussy you have there... Angela."

"It's not yours," I sobbed.

"Oh, but it is about to be."

That sounded so ominous the way he said it.

"Please..." I begged one last time.

He withdrew his fingers, continuing to suck my nipples. For a second, I thought he might be satisfied with that. Or...

"I can help you," I said. "I can jerk you off if you want."

His hand was busy with his belt and zipper just then.

"You want to touch it?" he asked.

"No... I mean. I don't want you to rape me."

"So you want to what?"

"I'll..." I said with regret and surrender. "I'll hold it and help you cum."

"So you want to hold my dick," he said, dropping his pants and kicking them away.

"OK... yes... I'll hold your... thing."

"My what?'

"Your penis."

"Faggets have a penis," he spat out. "Men have a dick, a cock, a prick. Say it... pick one and say that you want to hold it."

"OK, yes," I gave in. "I want to hold your cock."

He pulled away from my tits and straightened between my splayed and necked legs. My mouth dropped open in surprise. I was just not prepared for the sight of his maleness. I had never seen a manhood like his. Not even from my days before I got married - and there had been a few in me. But this... Jesse Brace was correct. All the male genitals I had seen and sampled had been mere penises compared to his. This was a cock to behold. A dick... a prick of enormous proportions.