Husband S Co Worker Making Amends

There is an art to sharing these stories that I haven't quite mastered yet. How much detail is too much, how much is too little? How relevant is the backstory, or is the backstory just filler before the fun?

The backstory to the beginning of this tale is long. It involves a semi-friendship, friendly and not-so-friendly gambling, and a fair amount of alcohol. I am not going to share it with you now. Suffice it to say that -- although amazingly exciting -- this was not how I planned on spending Friday night.

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I was surprised to be here, but there I was, making love to my drunken husband, the loser of a bet he never should have taken, in full view of his friend and co-worker, Carl. Carl, for his part, seemed very pleased with the view. And Carl was a very pleasing sight.

My husband put up the lamest fight when Carl disrobed completely, a fight that dissipated completely when Carl promised to remain at least three feet away. He was allowed to watch, not to touch, and Carl seemed OK with that.

My husband was more than OK, of course, because I had brought him to full attention with my mouth. I was surprised by how much I enjoyed the power. With my husband supine, my ear against his belly, his penis in my mouth, and my eyes locked with Carl's, I aroused both men - fully. I was in control.

While Carl focused on me, my husband squirmed. "Not yet, not like this." Was all my husband could muster.

"Why?" Shot back Carl.

"We're trying for a kid, Carl! Just shut the fuck up and watch, then never let me bet you again."

I let my husband lay there and rotated above him. This was the best view that Carl and I had had of each other. Now kneeling over my husband's body, Carl could see my face, my full breasts, my tight belly. He could also see the full extent of my husband, as I leaned back slightly and pulled his penis toward my bellybutton. It was wonderfully naughty, but I wanted Carl to see how deep my husband was about to go.

Carl loved this. He rotated his hips slightly to the side, pushed the base of his penis toward the floor, and smiled the sly smile of a man who knew he'd reach deeper. It was also obvious that he would also stretch me wider. Carl and I shared a silent moment.

"Come on, hun! You're driving me wild," croaked my husband.

With that I mounted him, still without breaking eye contact with Carl. I took my husband easily, my body completely comfortable with his, and rested my weight on him. I felt no immediate need for movement, but rather just slightly shifted weight from one hip to the other, all the while rubbing my clit and maintaining eye contact with Carl.

Carl was stroking now, and whether or not that was part of the bet my husband lost, it was going to be part of how the evening turned out. I began to match my movements to Carl's. Carl recognized that he controlled the pace of my lovemaking, and he very deliberately dictated slow thrusts.

Carl increased our pace in response first to my husband's, and then to my, moans. It seemed for a moment that the three of us would cum together, but that was not to be. My husband came quickly - and loudly indicated his pleasure. Carl came second, and in doing so initiated my pleasure.

Carl never broke the rules. He remained three feet from me at all times. And yet his first pulse hit my chin and neck, and a second found home on my breasts. As I brought myself to climax with my fingers, a third fell between us.

Carl spoke. "Damn son, your wife is hot. How did you end up with someone so sexy?"

"Fuck you, Carl, you're just hot for white chicks."

"Guilty!" Carl responded. "I'm going to let myself out. See you two lovebirds later."

I watched him leave, but knew I'd see him again. I take my wedding vows figuratively and not literally, and I have a passion for black lovers. It was only a matter of time before I surrendered control to Carl.

But that wouldn't happen tonight. Tonight I needed to cuddle my drunken husband to sleep, and convince him that I never, ever wanted him to make me do anything like that again.

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The next morning, while my boy was tending to his head, I was tending to my needs. My physiology allowed me to wait only hours and not days. I cannot help myself: making love makes me want to make love. This positive feedback loop has served me well, and I was still feeling excited after the previous night's activities. I wanted more. Given that my husband would be in no shape, and that Carl had displayed his amazing shape, I was left with a very easy decision.

A simple email is all I sent. "Dear Carl. I'm sorry that my husband treated you so unfairly. Without involving my husband, who clearly didn't see the harm in his behavior, I wonder if I can make it up to you. ~Janet."

A response within the hour confirmed my hunch. Carl was understanding of my situation, and agreed that including - or even informing - my husband would lead to unnecessary complications. To ensure that our harmless conversation didn't offend anyone, Carl suggested that we meet at his apartment.

I sent my agreement in a quick follow-up note, and asked if 'now' would be a good time for him. His reply in the affirmative was almost immediate. As was my turn-around time finding directions to his place.

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As my husband lumbered into the kitchen, I offered only kindness. "Go back to bed, hun. I'll run a few errands so the house will be quiet for you," I said lovingly. He turned around, muttered his appreciation, and headed back to bed.

I was a little disappointed with my excuse, because it constrained me in what I could wear, but it was functional. My outfit would be simple - an old Smith sweatshirt, jeans, and sneakers: very simple clothing certain not to gather attention.

Under the outfit, I squeezed into a black lace teddy, black stockings, and a thong. I fixed my make-up in the mirror, glanced at gloss red lips, giggled, and said, "my god you are a good looking slut!"

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I made it to Carl's apartment fast, quickly rang the bell, and was pulled into his apartment. Carl lived in a sparsely, but tastefully decorated studio apartment. With no walls to inhibit movement, it was easy to navigate once inside. Carl, wearing only a pair of gym shorts, clearly understood my goal, but I felt the need to keep the game running longer.

"I apologize for my husband. He put you in what I can only imagine was a very frustrating position. I'm hoping you'll let me make amends, and that you won't hold it against him. And frankly, I'd prefer that he never know that I needed to make up for his bad behavior."

"I'm sure we can work it out. Now get over here, sugar."
Now, if there is one thing I do well, its taking orders from sexy alpha males, so I did as I was told.

Carl whispered in my ear, "If anyone finds out about this, it will be because of you. I promise never to tell anyone. But I want exactly what your husband had last night."

I agreed, happily, and excused myself to the bathroom. I asked only that he wait a few moments, and that he waited while naked on the bed. Once in the bathroom I removed my sweatshirt, jeans, and sneakers, silently wished I had pumps to finish the outfit, and fixed my make-up.

I felt sexy. My 5'6" frame is strong, my curves are inviting, and my blond hair playful. Making my grand entrance, I asked, "now, just what about last night do you recall?"
Carl smiled and said, "damn, I think I just remembered a whole lot of extra stuff. Now get that ass over here."

As I mentioned, I take direction well. And while this wouldn't be exactly like the night before, I had a strong feeling it would be better. With Carl on the bed, I joined him, rested my hand on his beautiful growing penis, and kissed him. He rocked his hips forward and back, as he returned my embrace. Once he was impressively hard, I asked, "remember what happens now?"

Without waiting for an answer I lay next to him, rested my head upon his belly, and gave my mouth to him. Unlike my husband, who cradled his own head between his hands, Carl used his hands to direct my movements. He was kinder than he needed to be, but this was a good start to our relationship.

Carl firmly - but gently - pushed to the back of my mouth, and even with one hand grasping him firmly, I knew he could have pushed further. Now up close, it was clear that he was longer than I thought last night, and with him stretching the sides of my mouth, he was also a good deal thicker. I began to anticipate his taste, to really look forward to it, but that wasn't to be.

"Alright, girl, just -- and I mean just -- like last night", he directed. And so I submitted, mounted him with my back to his face, and held his glorious penis against my belly. He was hot, and thick, and wet with my saliva. Not that I would have needed the help, as I was more than wet enough for him.

And so I mounted him, slowly, allowing my body to adjust to his. If not for the joy I knew I was going to receive, I would have made this last longer. While I wasn't ready to take him completely, I began rocking from side to side. His breathing, and quiet moans, told me all I needed to know.

I could have kept this up longer, or rather he may have enjoyed this longer, but I needed more. So I began to pull from him, and then push back down, in increasing speed and depths, until finally, and surprisingly, I was struck with an orgasm. Normally I feel them building, slowly but confidently, this one just appeared - and struck with force!

"Hey, girl, that's not like last night. Your boy came first last night, not you. I guess this is gonna be different, because your man has to take over now."
And with that he flipped me, spread my legs, and gazed at me from between my knees. Using his hand, he directed his penis to my entrance, pushed it home, and asked, "are you ready for this?"

Without waiting for an answer he pushed his length into me, taking my breath away, and forcing another orgasm from my body. Then, as I abandoned all sense of control, he rapidly, methodically, pumped in and out of my body. Just as another orgasm was tearing through my body, he leaned down to whisper, "just like last night".

He came deep inside me, and I did not put up a fight.

We lay there, breathing heavy, my mind still trying to comprehend the joy my body just had, when he spoke again, "this will be different."
 Carl then displayed the holy grail of sexiness; he began making love to me again.

So few men can stay hard and make love twice back-to-back! This, in fact, is the main reason that I consider having a threesome, because the first event makes me want another immediately. And Carl was giving it to me immediately, and surprisingly lovingly. With long strokes, and an almost consistent embrace, Carl owned me.

It was only near the end, after an impossibly long, impossibly sexy time, that Carl began to pick up speed. With my grunts matching his moans, Carl pushed completely and painfully into my body, forcefully extracting my orgasm before releasing his own. The heavy breathing, the sweat, the pain was soon forgotten as we fell asleep in each other's arms.

I awoke 90 minutes later, Carl now soft but still inside me, my ass deep in the dampness of our love. "Shit, Carl, I have to go!" And with that he rolled over and I quickly made my way to the bathroom. Once there I took a moment to reflect, as I prepared my hair and make-up for my departure.

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I understood Carl. He was turned on by what my husband had said about us trying to have children. Neither Carl nor my husband knew that I had continued to take birth control, so -- as I do for my husband -- I would pretend for Carl.

Of course, my husband expected me to be hopeful with each marital encounter. Carl, I'm sure, wanted to see concern in my eyes, maybe fear. My hunch, my expectation, was that Carl would find that concern exciting. Carl, waiting for me outside the door, did not disappoint. He met the look of concern in my face with a request.

"Come on babe, just once more before you go."
And while I knew he was being naughty, he was not bluffing. With a full erection, he reached to kiss me.

"I can't, I have to get dressed, I have to go, Carl!"

"Damn, woman, don't leave me like this. "
And with that I fell to my knees. In my mind I knew, and in my heart I hoped, that this wouldn't be enough for him. And given that I had not yet dressed, I would have little power to stop him if it wasn't. But I put up a good fight!

With long, hard hand strokes, and powerful sucking on the head of his penis, I tried to make him cum. Rapidly I pumped him, and begged him to cum when I broke for air. For a moment I thought I might have him, but he pulled from me, lifted me to my feet, pushed me back onto the table, and pressed himself between my legs.

"No, Carl!"

"Come on, babe, I can see that you want this."
And with that he entered me. While pulling my hips toward his, he pushed more and more deeply into my body. "OK, babe, wrap your legs around me, and when I bend over hold on to my shoulders."

I complied, and while impaled by Carl, and holding on for dear life, Carl lifted me, walked me back to his bed, rested me on the mattress, and fucked me mercilessly for 20 minutes. And while sore, and exhausted, Carl still timed my body perfectly. He met my orgasm with his own.

I rested only long enough to catch my breath, and compose my mind, "This is fucked up. I have to run!"

"I understand, babe. For the record, I completely forgive your husband. Our secret, OK?"

And with that I dressed, left, grabbed some groceries, made my way home, and prepared dinner for my still sleepy, hung over husband.