My fingers flashed across my phone screen keypad, messaging my husband.
Hi Simon. I'm on my way home, very unclean and sticky, so please be ready!
I can't wait, darling. Mind games have been playing rampant in my head.
Good ones?
All good, yes. I've indulged in a syrupy delicious taboo all alone.
I'm thrilled you had a good time.
Can I ask something please, Jess?
Of course.
Did he fuck you well?
Very well, but his cock's smaller than yours.
Oh god, thank you for that.
A moment of tension passed, and I felt happy my plan had worked out for everyone. My fuck buddy had scratched an itch that irritated our marital harmony and my relief felt palpable.
As I relaxed back into the sumptuous, fresh smelling beige leather of Paul's Porsche 911, I felt confident and happy, albeit with a sticky mess oozing gently from and around my pussy.
Simon will be hungry.
I glanced at Paul, grateful for his good behaviour in accepting my boundaries, backing off when I rejected a kiss. I smiled when he did, glowing in the satisfaction I'd taken from his cock.
"Any problems at home?"
"None. I needed to let my husband know that I'm on the way home."
The half an hour drive flashed by while my fuck buddy described his life in investment banking, his extended family living abroad in Italy, and his hopes of finding a wife soon.
"It's so difficult to find the right partner, isn't it?"
I paused before answering, detecting a danger in his line of questioning.
"Uh huh, I guess."
"Most women want the money I have but don't want to discuss lifestyle, kinks and such."
"We married young. Simon and I were sure about each other quickly."
"Ah, that's great for you guys, but what about this cuckold thing?"
"What do you mean?"
"Your husband has no problem sharing you. Why?"
"It's complicated and has to do with the psychology of the kink rather than anything else. It's about control, taboo, competition and the thrill of the hunt, an acquisition, loss, then a sordid reclaiming ritual."
I shut Paul down and changed the subject fast because he probed too far into my marriage.
"Tell me about the Italian village your family originates from?"
When I closed our front door, and skipped lightly upstairs, I stepped out of my dress, peeling my filthy cum soaked knickers off before crawling up our bed to feed my sleeping husband a warm, creamy nightcap.
While straddled across his neck, I rifled through Simon's hair gently, rousing him from a deep sleep.
"Hi, Jess."
I didn't answer, but looked down, pouting like the naughty hotwife whore I'd been. He smiled generously, and I saw Simon's acceptance and desire for this lifestyle writ large on his expression.
I shuffled my knees until they nudged gently on either side of his head and he encircled my waist with his arms. When I used two fingers to prise both pussy lips apart, I felt Paul's cum, mixed with my pussy juice, sluice from my hole, dribbling tantalisingly into my husband's mouth.
He pulled my ass lower until his lips encircled my cum soaked pussy, dragging my creamy petals into his mouth, sucking as if intending to clean, then sloshing with his saliva as if to rinse me.
I felt light flutters of a growing orgasm waft through my already fucked reproductive system and leaned back, reaching with one hand, making sure my husband's enormous cock was steely and ready to reclaim me.
I allowed Simon time to hunt down and savour every drop of Paul's seed that was mixed with my love cream. He was attentive, more so than usual, and I knew the ritual act of reclaiming me had improved his cunnilingus technique enormously.
When I relaxed my midriff and upper thigh muscles, I heard Simon's delightful slurping, knowing my juicy flow had increased, as had his pleasure.
One hand lifted me while the other dabbled two fingers into my pussy, harvesting juices that Simon hadn't eaten. When he lowered my ass back down, his tongue intensified its strumming motion against my clitoris while a single digit probed the puckered entranceway to my sphincter.
"Mmmm... yes please, Paul never went there tonight."
His finger slid across my anal ridges, massaging and pressing pussy cream inside my back passage. He pushed the stiff digit inside my rectum, up to the first knuckle, then slid out before returning for a second foray.
My anal fucking proceeded at pace while his enthusiastic tongue drove my clitoris hard in circles.
I rode my husband's face gently, coordinating a steady grinding motion between his finger and tongue to help Simon collect more juice from my swollen pussy lips while fucking my ass.
I knew I would cum when Simon fucked my ass like an artillery battery, pounding its guns at the enemy. He slipped a second finger inside me, stretching my asshole wider while sucking and licking my clitoris.
His fingers twisted as he beckoned a delightful massage against the soft tissue walls deep inside my taboo hole.
When I pissed rainbows, my husband swallowed them, but there was so much juice that it slathered his chin. A mixture of cum, hormonal desperation, and pee swamped Simon's face, mostly flushing inside his mouth.
I knew Simon loved it because he pulled my butt down harder, relentlessly licking and sucking my pussy while I ground out a face fucking he'd never forget, rocking and rolling through a tumultuous orgasm, screaming and moaning like the hotwife whore I'd become.
I rolled off Simon's face and onto my side of the bed, giggling, quickly ripping tissues from a dispenser on the nightstand, cleaning the mess between my lips and on his.
