Cuckold Birthday Pt 03

The breakfast waiting for me was like a dream. With two children and having to rush to work, we hadn't really had the time for more than a simple sandwich or some muesli. Now, on the other hand, fried eggs were steaming on my plate, with bacon, onions, beans sprinkled with chili, and cheese. Next to the plate, my favorite giant mug smelled of...

"Is that really dirty latte, darling?" I asked Laura, who was humming at the counter in a robe with a towel wrapped around her hair.

"Do you like it?" she asked. "I don't really know whether I found the right recipe on the net..."

"Divine...," I sniffed the steam. I could smell the strong coffee poured into the tea, it started to wake me totally up already. "When did you have time for all this?"

"Oh, I prepared it tonight while you were watching Bruce Willis. Now I just had to put it together..."

Wasn't this what I had always dreamed of? Favorite movie, good sleep, sex the next day, and a wonderful breakfast.

"It's amazing, darling! You don't join me for breakfast?"

"Oh, I've already swallowed something!" my wife stated, winking at me. I nodded with a grin and began to eat. "I wouldn't have the time for it anyways, I have to get ready, we'll have a guest soon!"

"Who?" I wandered. "And why today exactly? Wait a minute...," I thought about the morning events. "You happened to rope somebody in for us? Did you still manage to talk Scarlett Johansson into it?"

"Almost," Laura replied with a smile. "The point is, just have your breakfast, then I'll be waiting for you in the living room!"

Equipped with my favorite newspaper, I had a nice quiet breakfast. Blessing the silence, I just leaned back, enjoyed the flavors, and of course wondered what kind of gift from my lovely wife still awaited me.

When I was done with the royal feast, I took a detour to the restroom and read the second half of the article quite calmly. I always loved this morning silence.

Arriving in the living room, I found my lovely wife at the coffee table, in just a bathrobe, applying makeup. She looked at me over her mirror:

"Did you enjoy your breakfast?" she asked.

"Oh, very much," I replied, putting the newspaper in the newsstand next to the TV. "When is that guest coming? And what should I wear?"

"You still have the time," my wife replied. "Just sit in the armchair for now."

I sat down as I was, only in my bathrobe. I felt Hugh Hefner's satiety because of the sucking I had received that morning and a slight curiosity about what the plans for today were at the same time.

Just when I wanted to ask about that again, Laura finished packing her makeup kit up and pulled the zipper on the little pink handbag she kept her stuff in. It had been a while since I had seen her in such vivid make-up, the blood red lipstick and black mascara created a strong, almost whore-ish contrast. She even let her hair down as well, looking at me seductively:

"Do you like it like this?" she asked.

"Yeah, you're very hot," I said. And she really was: she looked wild. Hadn't she sucked me off twice that day, my dick would have been hard again. But after all those, I just leaned back in the armchair with a satisfied smile on my face.

"Good then," she said, and this time she walked over to me. "Then you're next!"

"Me?" I looked at her. "That's very kind of you, but after the morning..."

"Come on, it won't be about that, honey!" Laura declared, and to my greatest surprise she took two handcuffs from the pocket of her robe. They were the same pink plush covered handcuffs that I had used to tie her to the bed during our wild adventures.

"Well, are you really planning something?" I asked with a mischievous smile.

"Yes, you'll really like it...," she replied, leaning down to me. Her fingers clicked one end of the bracelets one by one on my wrists and the others on the armrest of the armchair nimbly, imperatively. Her soft hair swept on my face and I could smell the light, floral aroma of her perfume spreading around. By the time I filled my lungs with her scent, she straightened up and checked both my hands with narrowed eyes, even pulling them a little to see there was no way I could free myself.

"So what now?" I asked with a grin, moving my knees left and right. "Can I get another BJ?"

"Maybe later, honey," Laura glanced at the clock. She then moved etherically to our old carved walnut wardrobe in the corner and started digging inside. "You'll get your real gift soon, you just have to be patient for a little more."

The real gift? So what had the morning sex in bed and the other one in the shower been? Of course, the excellent, relaxed breakfast felt wonderful, as well, -- but what more could a man want?

As if to feel my train of thought, my wife lowered the robe from her shoulder. Now she was standing in front of me completely naked, so I could eye her muscular back, round buttocks and tight thighs up and down undisturbed. One could tell how carefully she had taken care of her lines even after giving birth to two children. You could tell the effects of regular running and cardio -- sometimes I envied her for her perseverance.

Unfortunately, she didn't turn around while dressing so I could enjoy her full breasts as well. She put on one of her most seductive black lacy lingeries I had bought for her last year. As she aligned the lacy edge of her panties to her gorgeous butt and joined the bra buckles on her back, I wished I could grab my hardening dick. But the handcuffs didn't let me out unfortunately, so I watched quasi-helplessly as my partner pulled on the lattice stockings on her underwear. She rolled them up on her legs and thighs intentionally slowly, looking into my eyes all along. Finally, she finished dressing up with a pair of black Loubotin high heels, of which blood-red soles matched her thick red lipstick really fine. The whore effect she had so far now turned to a specific courtesan impression.

"So, do you like it?" she asked with a smile.

"Hell, yeah...," I moaned honestly.

"Would you fuck me?" she asked with a big, innocent look.

"Yes, Yes!" I gasped like a puppy. "Let's do it!"

"Soon, you little eager-minded," Laura leaned over to me, breathing a light kiss on my mouth, but she also looked at the clock again. Then she straightened up, checking my handcuffed hands, my body stretching in the bathrobe, and as if realizing, "I forgot the most important part!" she declared, turning back to her robe. From its pocket, she took out the ball gag, with which we had also spiced up our marriage sometimes. It was a red, perforated plastic ball with two brown leather straps. It could be put in the submissive partner's mouth, strengthening her vulnerable and humiliated position even more -- I loved putting this in Laura's mouth as well and fuck her. But now she put it into my mouth and attached the thin strap behind my neck. She even checked to see if it stood firmly enough between my lips.

"Can you breathe?" she asked.

"Mhhmmm," I replied enthusiastically, for we had never had fun like this before.

"Good," Laura replied, but unfortunately, she did not kneel before me to suck me for the third time, but whirled around the room, humming to herself, packing up all the unnecessary stuff: her robe, her dressing case, children's drawings, then collected the coffee cup, evening tea mugs and took everything out to the kitchen. I stayed there in the empty living room tied up with my mouth gagged.

And then somebody rang the bell at our door. Laura's high heels knocked well audibly through the hallway, and then I heard a door open and a muffled conversation. I was waiting, holding my breath, who might have visited us at this time.

I didn't have to wait for long, Laura showed up at the living room door right away. She didn't cover her body with neither a jacket nor a sweater, as I thought, she led the guest inside wearing her black lacy lingerie and "fuck me" high heels.

The guest was a complete stranger. He was a tall guy with brown hair and very brown skin. I closed my legs instinctively, tried to hide my groin in my vulnerable position, and tugged at my handcuffs as well, but the cheap Chinese props were surprisingly strong, they didn't even bend.

"Well, honey," my wife led the stranger into the living room, "it's time for your real gift!"

"Wffmmfft?" I moaned with the gag in my mouth and didn't understand the situation at all. What's this, a joke?

"What's wrong, honey, weren't you the one watching wife sharing porn? Isn't this one of your favorite fetishes?"

Another shock. So Laura had checked back, what had I been watching lately? Well, I had clicked on this genre for real, I had watched quite a few scenes in which a husband shared his wife and watched as someone else fucked her in front of him. I had a lot of fun of the lame baselines like that particular third wheel had been a colleague, a friend, or just a hired stranger. Or multiple strangers if the scene had been a good gangbang. And the fact is that I had sometimes fantasized about how exciting it would be to see Laura with another man, moreover, even the stories she had told about her exes had had a big impact on me. But it was a whole different feeling to sit in a single bathrobe, with my mouth gagged to watch as my wife was... Doing what exactly?

"Then let me introduce you to Brad," Laura showed the large young man behind her, as if it were just an exhibit. "He's a medical student at university and he's completing his pocket money from his parents with some casual jobs, which is a really honorable thing, isn't it, darling?"

My wife said that "casual jobs" with such a mischievous smile that I had no doubt about this young man getting his extra wage by entertaining ladies mainly.

"I met him at Anita's bachelorette party, don't you remember it from last year?"

I nodded with a moan. Indeed, Laura had been at some hen parties, returning home in a slightly illuminated condition regularly, and complaining of a severe headache the next day. At such times, I had usually left her alone, assuming nothing more than the usual lame drinking and pranking games.

"Coolie doolie! He was the stripper guy there! It was really a...," my wife looked Brad in the eye, "memorable performance, so when I noticed what kind of movies you were watching a couple of months ago, I immediately thought about him. Who could be a better subject for this?"

Yeah, who could be? But I couldn't express my opinion, so I just watched my partner stroke the guy's neck.

"So I decided, if you're already watching these kinds of things, I really deserve a little fun of my own. It was easy to get the young man's contact, and he was really happy to take the role. Right, Brad?"

Now that they got closer, I could really see how young this guy was. He may have just begun his early college years, his broad shoulders and slim figure suggested many-many hours spent in gyms. His eyes flashed just as brown as his short, military hair. He looked around in the living room, and after looking at the TV, the sofa, and the coffee table, his gaze settled on me.

"Will there be... any problem?" he asked in a deep voice. I had to admit, his charisma was kinda engaging.

"With him? Come on, no way!" Laura waved with her hand. She stepped to me, checked the pink handcuffs again. "My dear husband will sit here and enjoy the show. Right, honey?" she caressed my face with her fingernails, but of course she didn't expect a real answer. She tapped on the ball gag. "He can't even be mad! After all, his favorite porn is "hotwifing" and "cuckold"!"

I couldn't have said anything, even if I could have. Yes, I liked this genre. Yes, I watched scenes like this. Yes, I was horny about that situation now.

"So go on, Brad," my wife continued, sitting in the armchair, legs crossed. "Start dancing!"

The guy picked up his cell phone and started playing a cheerful pop track on it: I recognized Dua Lipa's song Future Nostalgia.

"You sure he'll be okay?" the guy nodded at me. Laura shrugged, smiling.

"He's completely harmless!" she said without looking at me, then urged the guy, "You can start it, go on, go on!"

Our guest put his phone on the table and started dancing lightly to the music. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, then turned his back to my seated wife smiling, and shook his ass. He tossed his shirt under the floor lamp soon, the undervest underneath it now showed his muscular shoulders. Laura chuckled as she watched the dance, blushing as the guy turned back and pulled his undershirt off his belly, flashing the six pack stretching there.

After a few wavy moves, our guest got rid of his undershirt. The white piece of clothing ended up on my wife's lap with a vigorous fly. She lifted it to her face with passion and deep empathize, then inhaled the scent of the guy's upper body. Then, giggling, she placed it next to her on the couch -- when we had bought it years ago, it wouldn't have thought in my wildest dreams a stranger's clothes would land on it. Dua Lipa switched to Don't Start Now, which I made my guess the music wasn't coming from a radio show or pop list, but we're going to listen to the full album of this British-Afghan singer now. It wasn't as if I had any objections to it, it sounded pretty good, plus I found that girl fucking hot, I had actually jerked off to her videos for a few times already. And her music was a perfect choice for this scene. The guy was slowly circling with his hips as he unbuckled his belt. As the end of the belt jumped free, it almost hit my wife on the face, who leaned back with a smile and watched the striptease in a comfortable position.

The pants soon fell onto the shirt in the corner of the room: the guy was now dancing in only a pair of black shorts in front of my wife. Dua Lipa switched to Cool, the guy's body was moving in accord to the soft melodies and the theatrical moans played from the phone. Leaning on the coffee table, he twerked a little, then pushed with his groin forward, mimicking intercourse. Then, slowly, teasing his one-man audience, he also pushed down the black shorts off himself. This, too, showed his professionalism: beneath the shorts was a blood-red thong stretching between his buttocks. My wife shook her head and even giggled as the guy rolled his black boxer shorts over her head. He threw it with a nice arc towards my wife, who managed to catch it, and sniffed a deep one from it. She was probably satisfied with the scent as he unfolded it, looked at it, and then sniffed it again. The guy, meanwhile, moved his hips around smiling, this time with his whole body turning to my wife, who just took a swing of the guy's pheromones, then tossed the shorts into my lap with a mischievous smile. It was a nice throw, the black shorts covered my limp dick completely. I hadn't exactly imagined this morning being covered by a young, energetic stranger's shorts, but it was better than being embarrassed naked in the armchair in a slipped rope.

The guy now stepped quite close to my wife, almost pushing his groin into her face. His bulging cock was clearly visible through the red thong. It stretched the red material quite a bit, which is probably why the audience at the bachelorette parties loved him. He circled small ones to the fast-paced rhythm of the next song, Physical, of which bass echoed in the room even from the phone, making the whole situation dreamily exciting. My wife didn't hesitate too much, leaned to the guy's groin and squeezed the side of the thong between her teeth, then slowly bent down and pulled the tiny piece of clothing off her guest. The guy's dick jumped forward like a beast, barely avoiding my wife's forehead with millimeters. When Laura almost reached the guy's knee, she took the thong between her carefully manicured fingers and pushed it down the guy's leg. Meanwhile, she straightened up and admired with plain fascination the huge and naked phallus steeping in front of her with undisguised rapture. True, it was a piece to check: much longer than mine, dark brown as the dancer's entire body, with fiercely throbbing vessels. He could have easily been a professional porn actor. Both its stem and the testicles were completely smooth and bare.

"You don't mind me tasting this delicacy, do you?" Laura asked with huge eyes. After she had sucked me off this morning and even had licked my ass, now she wanted to start sucking again! There was a lot more in this woman than I had experienced from her in the last years. "After all, that's what you wanted, wasn't it? To see your wife suck another man's cock?!"

"Mmhhmm," I moaned in response, but as I really thought about it, I was horny as hell. Without being tied down, I might have jumped up and tossed this overly muscular and potent guy out, but laying there helplessly, with the gag in my mouth and the black shorts on my lap... Maybe my wife knew me much better than I did myself?

Laura slowly pulled the skin back, then licked the head around. She also closed his eyes, enjoying the guy's taste. She even gasped a little. Brad put his hands on his hips, pulled himself out, stretched like a Greek demigod in front of my wife, and enjoyed as Laura's tongue swirled around his swollen cock.

"How do I look?" Laura said to me, leaning under the guy's cock. "Does this stranger's cock suit me well?" and she licked the rod like a tube of corn.

Yes, it looked damn good. The sight exceeded my earlier fantasies ever so much, in which I had imagined Laura with her exes. I was aware that the wonderful oral sessions I had received from her had been practiced on quite a few men before we had gotten together, but seeing her in such a fornic situation with a naked wild stranger boiled my blood completely.

She started bobbing on the guy's cock to the beat of the spinning pop song. She let half of the phallus loosely into her mouth; it surely penetrated her throat right away. She pulled it out slowly, looking into the guy's eyes all along, who, moreover, winked proudly at me, as if to say, "Do you see what I'm doing to your wife?"

Then Laura closed her eyes and began the rhythmic, deep, passionate sucking I had already known so well. Her head moved fiercely on the guy's cock, her spit flowing heavily on the base of the tool, and some of her loose locks of hair touched the guest's thigh. It was an intimate yet dirty feeling to watch my wife suck this stranger the way she had reserved for me so far. It wasn't much different from the porn I saw on the net. Especially when she grabbed the guy's butt with both hands, pulling him closer and closer to her. Brad dug into her hair as well, he also thrust big ones with his groin, fucked my partner's mouth for a while, then suddenly pulled his cock out, and bent down to Laura:

"You can suck damn well..." he gasped. "Almost too well...," and jerked his cock a bit slower, he probably didn't want to come yet. He stared up close at Laura's flushed, heaving face, as if he were only examining a bitch at an animal fair.

Then he pushed my wife back by her hair to the back of the couch and knelt on her lap. He grabbed her hair with a true royal, dominating gesture, and slapped his cock to her mouth.

"That's it...," he declared. "Are you ready for a bit harder... face fucking?"

Laura just nodded greedily, so our guest easily slipped his cock into my wife's mouth. Clinging to the backrest, Laura couldn't really retreat, so she allowed the guy to penetrate her mouth deeply. He pushed his cock much deeper than before, and impaled my wife's eager mouth slowly, imperiously with each thrust. The thick, long dick was already visibly bulging in Laura's throat, and my lovely wife was panting more and more. Brad shoved his cock very deep, all the way to my partner's mouth, and kept it inside. His balls touched Laura's chin, the guy's muscular butt almost completely covered my wife's head, which, moreover, sank helplessly into the back of the couch. I thought Brad came this time, by which I wouldn't have been surprised at all, but when he finally pulled his cock out of my wife's mouth, only saliva glistened at the end of it, there was no trace of sperm. Plus, it was just as hard as before.