If You Build It They Will Cum

After a nice evening out, my husband and I returned to our recently empty nest; our liberation still feeling new. As Tom followed me into the house, I fell to my knees in front of him and fumbled with his zipper. Negotiating the fly was demanding more patience than I could muster.

"Please just give it to me baby! Get that big cock out and stick it in my mouth!"

"Jesus Katherine" Tom chuckled, "can you at least wait 'till I get the door shut." As soon as he flopped it out, I took it into my mouth.

"Oh yeah... you do that soo goood!"

He wasn't

really

surprised. He knew what I liked, and he knew what kind of things I liked to hear while I was getting it.

"You are a nasty little cock sucker, aren't you?"

"Ummhmmm"

"You just love it, don't you? Yeah... look at you, sucking that meat like you need it!"

I backed off just long enough to encourage him to keep up the dialogue. "I

do

need it! Now shove it down my throat, you fuckin' stud!"

"Oh baby... oh geez... careful! We've got all night. C'mon babe, let's go upstairs and get comfortable."

"No, I need this here and I need it now! I'll do whatever you want later, but right now I need you to give me your cum!"

"All right, have it your way, you nasty little cock slut. You need this cock that bad, then you're gonna get it! Take it all, you dirty slut! Open up that throat so I can fuck it. You'll get my cum! I'll shoot it straight down your filthy throat!"

"Yes... yesss.....YESSSS! Aaaahhhh!"

Tom pumped two thick ropes down my gullet, then I pulled back to savor the smaller offerings he pulsed into my mouth. When I was sure I had it all, I gave one final milking squeeze and released him.

"Holy fuck Kat! What the hell was that?" as he leaned against the wall, recovering.

"That was your wife taking what she needs. And thank you for letting me have it! Now we can go upstairs. There's something else I'd like, and getting comfortable for it sounds perfect."

I knew Tom would need some time to recover, which meant I could luxuriate in his oral talents. Tom and I both love to fuck, it's just that lately fucking has taken a backseat to oral. So, following an emerging pattern, my husband made love to my pussy with his mouth, and I rode it until he drained me. Then he crawled up and snuggled in for some pillow talk.

"So babe, what was that earlier? I mean, I'm not complaining, but what the hell got into you?"

"I don't know, I just needed to suck a cock. I'd been thinking about it all day and I had to have it. And you - you made it sooo hot with your dirty talk, baby. You're so good at picking up on what gets me off."

"Happy to help, darling. Now tell me more about this urge. Did something happen today that got your motor running?"

"No, it's just something that came over me. It's been happening more and more lately... having these thoughts. I don't know why, but I think I'm becoming a total cocksucker!"

"Oh, I've noticed. And don't get me wrong, I love it - I really do. But I'm starting to wonder if I'm going to be able to keep up. I mean, sometimes it seems like you're draining me faster than I can replace it. My balls have been kinda tender all week. I think they might need a day off sometime."

"But baby, it's the only cock I can get. You wouldn't deny your wife her greatest joy in life, now would you?"

"I'm not trying to deny you anything, just suggesting an occasional recovery period. You know, the longer you wait, the more there is to swallow."

"True, but it's more about the sucking than the cum. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love your cum and I want to swallow it every time, but when it comes down to it, it's cock in my mouth that I crave the most. How about if.. sometimes you just let me suck you and you don't cum. How would that be for you?"

"Hmmm. Maybe, I don't know. I mean, I've gotten hard before while eating you to orgasm and then I didn't cum -- that's one thing. But you sucking me hard... I mean once you get me going like that, if I don't bust in your mouth it's because I just gotta to fuck you, ya' know?"

"Oh, believe me, I know! I guess I'm just looking for the best way for us both to get our needs met."

"Lemme ask you something..."

"Yeah?"

"When you talk about what you need, the way you say it, it sounds like it doesn't really have that much to do with me, you know?"

"Uh,... not sure I do."

"Well, like... you talk about needing to suck

a

cock, or just needing cock in your mouth. Not

my

cock."

"I do?"

"You do."

"Huh. I didn't realize that. Oh honey, I hope you don't think..."

"Hey, I'm not trying to accuse you of anything, I know you're faithful to me. I'm just trying to understand is all."

"Yeah, but I also don't want you to think that I want some other cock because I find yours lacking in any way. I mean, I love your cock -- it's perfect. Your 6 1/2 inches, it's the perfect length to gag me without hurting too much, it's the perfect width to fill my mouth and still be able to get past my back teeth. And the head is so beautifully shaped, and it gets so fucking hard, and it shoots so strong, and you've got to believe I absolutely

love

it. It's perfect! You know that, don't you?"

"I

thought

I did, but to hear you talk about it like that, I mean, wow. Aren't you a little afraid it might go to my head."

"Ha ha! As long as it doesn't get too big to fit in my mouth!"

"I don't think that's going to happen. But hearing you describe it, it's like you're some kind of connoisseur or something. A cock connoisseur."

"Maybe I am. It

is

on my mind a lot. I mean, a

lot

. I just don't think I could ever get enough of it."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

At work the next day, I reflected on our recently reinvigorated sex life, clearly enabled by our only child, Kevin, having gone off to state college. Again, I found my mind wandering, entertained by cock sucking daydreams. It amused me to imagine Tom being similarly distracted at his office. That night in bed, as his finger idly played with a lock of my hair, Tom volunteered:

"Honey, I've been thinking about what you said last night. "You know, about how you're always craving cock, and feeling like you just can't get enough?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, I've got a few follow-up questions."

"Okaaay..."

"About how your craving isn't specific to my cock; that it doesn't have to be mine necessarily. Yet you don't really want to be with other men. And let me be clear -- I don't want that either. But I would like to do anything I can to help you get what you need."

"And I love that about you baby."

"So, what I realized is, the answer might be anonymous cock. You don't care who it belongs to, or even what he looks like. Right?"

"Yeah, that sounds right. Where are you headed?"

"Here's where - a gloryhole."

"What? You think I want to go down to some adult bookstore and let some filthy random stranger..."

"No no no, hold on - that's not what I'm saying!"

"Good! Because that it so NOT gonna happen!"

"Good! So, we're in complete agreement so far. Now, may I continue?"

"Sorry, yes, please go on."

"What if you were at a hole where you were physically safe, and you knew each cock that came through was clean and disease-free? Then you could just suck them with no worries, and they would never know who you were. They wouldn't see you, or know it was you."

"I don't know... maybe? But how is that possible?"

"I'll make you a gloryhole myself. Right here in our house. And I can get four guys who I know are safe, and they can come over and feed you their cock and cum. How does that sound?"

"Huh. That... sounds... hot! So, who are these four guys? Wait; are you thinking of your friends you get together with on Sundays to watch football?"

"Yep"

"But they're all married! And I know their wives! I don't think I could do that. I mean, it's cheating. I don't think I could be part of that."

"Well, if that's the way you feel, I don't think there's any way around that. At least none I can think of. I do know some guys at work who are single, but they also have pretty active sex lives, at least if half of their bragging can be believed. The beauty of my football friends is that I know them well enough to know two big things they all have in common."

"And one is that they're all married." I reiterated.

"OK, two besides that. Number one: They're all faithful to their wives, and they're confident their wives are all faithful to them. But that's something I also need to hear from you on, because I know guys can be a little clueless. And women tell their friends a lot. So, what do you think? You know their wives - do you think they're all faithful?"

"Absolutely! Not only because they never talk about it - that's the kind of thing they probably wouldn't share. But if they

were

cheating, I think I'd know from their behavior. Plus, they each seem to have some fairly common complaints about their sex lives that I doubt would be an issue if they were getting some on the side."

"Exactly! Much the same with the guys. Even though guys are notorious for not sharing intimate stuff with their buds, they do talk in generalities, and I'm pretty sure I would pick up on things too. And that leads me to number two: they each have one common complaint about their sex lives -- not getting enough head!"

"Ha ha! You poor man! It must be rough to have friends you can't commiserate with."

"Yeah, but it's a burden I gladly bear to make you happy!"

"You're so full of shit! You're lucky I love you!"

"We're still in agreement. So, to sum up: four clean, safe guys come to our house to get something they love and they can't get enough of, and you're on the other side of the wall getting what you can't get enough of. There's a symbiosis there that's hard to deny."

"You're right about that. If it wasn't for the cheating part..."

"I hear ya. No need to rush into anything. At least sleep on it?"

"Sounds reasonable. That is, IF I can get to sleep with all that running around in my head!"

Sleep did prove elusive, but also worthwhile. Never had my waking thoughts bled into my dreams so directly. No symbolism, my brain straight-out put me on my knees at a gloryhole. Only in my dream, it wasn't private. I could hear men lined up on the other side, murmurs, laughter. The cocks just kept coming through the hole and cumming in my mouth. As with most dreams, I awoke the next morning retaining few specifics. I was left with no visuals, just snatches of their comments. Mostly the standards: Oh yeah; that's it baby; and suck it good. But the final voice didn't come from the other side of the hole, it was from out-of-body me, observing myself at the hole. Her words were:

"What are you doing, debasing yourself like this? You're somebody's wife! You're somebody's mother! Have you no shame?"

I had to wonder; was that what I wanted? Is that what I would become? I didn't have all the answers. The only thing I knew was that I

did

have shame. That's why the mere idea of it was so deeply thrilling!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

All through that day at work, my thoughts kept returning to Tom's idea, and it started to seem less outrageous. By that night, the subject of our pillow talk was inevitable, and I broached it without hesitation:

"So, I've been thinking about your idea..."

"You mean the gloryhole?" Tom asked.

"No Einstein, your time machine. Yes, the gloryhole."

"And what thoughts have you had?"

"I've been thinking about all the past conversations I've had with the football widows, for lack of a better term. You remember I said they each have various complaints about their sex lives. The details span a range of issues, but I know two of them have admitted they don't even like giving head. I think the truth is, they probably don't anymore, except maybe on special occasions."

"Ah yes, the birthday blowjob."

"Exactly. And the other two, while it sounds like it's still in their repertoire, I'm pretty sure it's become somewhat perfunctory over time. I suspect the enthusiasm and duration is less than their husbands would like. So, if the husbands were, uh, getting some head on the side, they wouldn't always be pestering their wives for it. Which I gather they do. So, in that regard I would actually be making everyone's lives a little better."

"I love how altruistic you are!"

"I know, right! And it's not like cheating in the sense that their husband might end up falling in love with someone else, or risk getting some disease, or getting blackmailed, or anything like that."

"Solid reasoning. All valid points."

"So, the hurdle I was having a hard time getting over, the thing I kept asking myself is, what if one of the wives found out? Would they be mad? I realize I can't really know how they would feel - that is, after the shock wore off - but what I

can

do is put myself in their shoes. Like, how would I feel if I found out you were getting something on the side. Something sexual that I didn't really want to be a part of, but something you loved. And if all the same elements were present; no risks to our marriage or our health. Would I be mad if I found out? I initially thought I would, but then I realized you didn't. You found out that I wanted something more than you could provide, and you didn't get mad or upset. In fact, you were willing to do anything you could to help me get it, you wonderful man. And in the wives' case, they don't have to do a thing, except share in the benefits. And that's how I cleared the hurdle."

"Sounds to me like I've got a gloryhole to build."

The very next day my husband came home from work with a large sheet of plywood and a bag of hardware from the building supply store. For the next 3 days, he would get home from work and be single-minded about his new project. He grudgingly left his garage workshop long enough to take meals. Other than that, I saw him when he needed to take measurements: like the distance from the floor to my mouth while I kneeled, then while I sat on a low stool. His enthusiasm over making my fantasy a reality made me even more grateful to him, and my go-to way of expressing my gratitude to him only increased his motivation to complete the project.

When he finally finished, he took my hand and lead me down to his "man cave" in our walk-out basement. The big room featured a sofa and a recently acquired big screen TV. A few comfortable old chairs had migrated downstairs as we upgraded the main floor furniture. There was a small wet bar, a bathroom and a storeroom. At least a storeroom is all it was until this week. It was an odd little room that the previous owners had tried to convert into a bedroom by adding a walk-in closet, but the room lacked windows and was just too small to be practical as a bedroom. It also had a door leading out to the backyard.

"Look honey, check it out! I saved the old closet door, which can easily be replaced whenever we want, but now we have this new latchable sliding door with 2 holes."

"Two holes? I may be good, but I can only service one cock at a time."

"It's not for two at once, it's to accommodate different heights. Plus, I built this little portable step that can add a little height to the lower one, so it accommodates three different heights. Subtle distinctions, but it's the kind of activity where a comfortable stance is important. Or so I'm told."

"OK, mister innocent. Wait a minute, are we expecting these guys to believe that there's a glory hole in our storeroom and I don't know about it. Isn't that a bit far-fetched?"

"Well, I'm going to stack a bunch of empty boxes in front of the plywood door. That provides an easy layer of camouflage for anyone who might innocently look in here. Beyond that, I'll tell the guys that you have a fear of spiders, and you refuse to go in this room ever since you found a few in here."

"I'd believe that. OK, let's continue the tour. What else ya got?"

"Well, the plywood is 1/2" thick, so it's strong enough to not flex or break under stress, yet it isn't as thick as a normal door."

"Why do we care about that?"

"Well, a normal door is 1 1/4" thick, so this is 3/4" less. That's 3/4" more cock you can get in your mouth.. And keep in mind, they may not all be as well hung as me! And the holes are both large enough to get an entire package through, so you get to suck their balls too!"

"Have I told you lately that I love you?"

"All the time baby, but I never get tired of hearing it." He proudly continued:

"Of course, the edges are all lovingly sanded and sealed to prevent splinters."

"Of course. Any comforts for the occupant on the other side?"

"Step right this way." he said, sliding the door open. "Inside you can see we have a variety of cushions for your kneeling comfort, as well as this sturdy little stool if you prefer to sit on occasion. And we have shelves to the side with paper and cloth towels, tissues, water bottle, etc. Plus a battery-operated night light, a cooler and a bucket to use as a trash can. Just keep in mind that there's no bathroom, so the trash can will have to do double duty if you drink too much."

"Don't worry, I'm not planning to drink a lot in here. Well, at least not a lot relative to the size of my bladder" I joked.

"Have I told

you

lately that I love you?"

"Yes, but I'd like to take you upstairs and have you tell me again if it's not too much trouble."

On my way upstairs, I realized that while Tom had been occupied with the details of his project, I had largely been thinking of it like any other minor DIY home renovation. Now that I saw the finished product, the reality of it suddenly became stark. I really was going to do this. I was going to lock myself into that tiny space and suck the cocks that appeared through the hole. But not just any cocks -- the cocks of Tom's friends! These were men I knew fairly well. Men I hadn't previously thought of sexually. But I sure was thinking of them that way now, and it was making me incredibly horny! Plus, my husband deserved a proper thank you.

"You did good baby, and you deserve a reward for a job well done. I know you want to fuck my pussy, so that's what you're going to get. First, I just need a few minutes sucking your cock, while I imagine it being Bill's. Then Roger's. Then Javier's. Then Ted's. Just let me wrap my lips around your shaft while I try to wrap my mind around my new identity."

I sat on the edge of the bed and my ever-indulgent husband fed me his cock, as I imagined sucking each of his friends. Would any of them have such a sharply defined corona as Tom's? Would there be a foreskin to play with? Would any of them have such a purple helmet or this thick of a shaft? Would any of them be this hard, or last this long? And how would they cum? Would it be forceful shots, a flowing stream, or oozing gobs of thick cream? Would they be vocal, knowing their friends can hear?

"Uh, honey, I hate to interrupt, but if we're gonna..." Tom was alerting me.

"You're right, you're right" I said, breaking away before he lost it. "That will have to hold me for now. You've earned control tonight. Take it."

I got naked and lay back, spreading wide to give him a clear view of what I offered. Clearly savoring the moment, he dragged his spit covered head up and down my slit very deliberately, spending extra time on the top of each pass, first wiggling it back and forth, next tracing tiny circles around my clitty. He was driving me crazy, and he was loving it. His free hand grabbed at my B cup tits and squeezed them while he continued to tease me with his cock. Now with each downstroke of his head, he added a brief dip inside my hole, pulling out my juices to spread them up and down. My clit was thoroughly slimed, and he used his tool to tap on it gently, then rub it directly. By the time he lined up for insertion I was begging for it.