Fantasy Fulfilled 52

I had just finished inside my wife, and she rolled off me with a sly grin on her face. It had been a long night (or early morning) of raunchy fucking, complete with her claiming to have fulfilled my greatest fantasy.

We both turned on our backs, glancing carefully at each other.

"You did not have sex with another guy tonight," I challenged. She looked a little shy. It made me hesitate. "Babe...?"

"I did." My heart skipped a beat. "Are you mad?"

She was lying on her side, facing me. Everything about her was a sweaty mess, and had been, since she'd gotten home. Her smile was still there: coquettish, challenging, questioning, and maybe a little nervous.

I turned and propped my head on my hand.

"No, I just don't believe you, is all."

She laughed. There was a little amusement, a little derision. "Oh? Why not?"

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Well, after all the times we had really hot sex talking about it, it always seemed like you weren't interested..."

"But I'm interested in turning you on... Are you sure you're not mad?"

I shook my head no. "What about the time I walked in on you fucking yourself with the dildo with the condom on it?"

She flushed. "I thought I could get away with telling you a dirty story... But I liked how you fucked me when you 'caught' me." She cautiously reached out a hand and slipped the tips of her fingers against the underside of my soft cock. "I knew it turned you on."

"If I didn't catch you, I would've believed you. I probably would've been mad."

"... and turned on?"

"Mad, and really turned on. I would've been really mad though, and then I would've made you tell me about it."

"Like tonight?" As soon as she'd walked in the door, she'd 'confessed' after a girls' night with her best friend, in fairly gory detail.

"Yeah."

"Well, I didn't fuck myself tonight, and you didn't catch me." She grasped, then tugged on my dick. I may have grunted. Maybe she wasn't lying.

"Where's the dildo?"

"What?"

"The big dildo we bought, that you tried to fool me with. Where is it?"

"Probably under the bed where you left it." After I'd fucked her with it a few days ago. "It's not like I took it in my purse, and we haven't been using condoms lately..."

"So?"

"So we don't have condoms. Didn't my pussy smell like rubber and sex when you went down on me?" She smirked when my cock throbbed. "Oh, so you noticed."

"Yeah, I noticed."

She moaned as my fingers grazed the inside of her thigh.

"You're trying to decide if I'm playing games with you..." The statement hung in the air, resolutely true. I didn't stop teasing. "I'm not. You can look around for condoms tomorrow, but there isn't one."

My cock betrayed my desire to believe her, swelling against my will. She wasn't teasing me any more, either.

"He was bigger than you, you know."

My cock throbbed in her soft grasp. "That's what you said." She casually rested her tits against me.

"It was good, but he wasn't gentle. I'm a little sore, and the fucking you gave me didn't help," she complained.

Throb. Her grasp tightened.

She pouted, and squeezed.

"You still don't believe me?"

I shook my head, trying not to. She slapped the underside of my cock. That got a groan.

"Why?"

"No proof."

"No proof?"

"Fool me once..."

She sat up, and took her hand from my rigid dick.

"Really?!? I come home at three in the morning, sweaty and smelling like sex, we fuck till the sun comes up, and you want proof? I fucking fulfilled you fantasy, asshole! I got drunk and let a total stranger fuck me, just so I could tell you about it to turn you on! You want me to call Lauren so you can ask her what I did tonight?"

"Maybe?"

"And if she tells you she saw me getting fucked in the back of a truck you'll believe me then?"

Warning bells were going off: 'Warning, wife is mad!' Caution, meet wind.

"What, so you two got your stories straight, you got a new dildo, wrapped it up, fucked it, then hid it, just to turn me on?" I paused briefly.

It seemed more likely than her admission, as much as I hoped she was telling the truth. My wife is a 'good girl,' or at least she wants everyone to think she is, or has to believe for herself she is. I know better. "You've already told me you're not going to go through with this fantasy, babe. But, thank you. We had a really memorable night."

"Asshole!" she shrieked. "What kind of proof do you fucking want?"

I couldn't hold out any longer; I was sold.

I believed her. I believed the sweat, the smell, and how slippery but different she'd felt when I'd slipped inside her. I'd believed all along, if I had to be honest with myself. I desperately wanted to have her call Lauren, to have her best friend tell me she'd seen my wife getting fucked by a stranger tonight, and how she couldn't believe she was doing it just to turn me on.

But my expression was rock. Maybe turning into hope.

Moments passed.

My dick was rock hard and pulsing, veins swollen up the sides. I continued to meet her challenging stare, daring her to pick up on what I was thinking. On what my cock showed I was feeling.

"Oh." She smiled, wickedly. "Ohhh." A lightbulb went off in her head. I hoped I knew what the lightbulb was. I approved, if I was right.

Her fingers were soon replaced with her wet mouth on my cock, which somehow got harder, and was then I was inside her recently well-used pussy. She felt incredible.

Her eyes were drenched with lust as she stared down at me. It was like she'd fallen in lust with me again as we ground our bodies together, grunting.

We didn't speak, and I looked back at her the same way.

Her hands locked on my shoulders as she rode me to another shuddering orgasm, then laid her chest against mine.

The decent folk of the world were drinking coffee and eating breakfast. I had just reclaimed my wife.

As we finally nodded off to sleep, she rolled her head to look at me. Sweat, smudged makeup, and exhaustion aside, she was so beautiful. "I love you," she murmured, her eyes heavy. The corner of her mouth quirked into a smile. "I'm going to prove to you I'm your little hotwife. Soon."

I couldn't wait to find out how.