One Time Too Many

This story is intended to be somewhat humorous. It works best if you apply a Texas accent to the narration and characters' spoken parts. Oh, it's about a wife fucking someone other than her husband. I have forewarned you.

*****

Have you ever had one of those days where everything you thought to be true turns out to be just a bunch of lies? You know, the kind of day where you lose everything, a day where you have to throw away your old life and start a new one. I had one of those days today.

The funny thing about it was today was my birthday. It wasn't funny in a humorous sense, where we sit around laughing jovially over some shared joke. It was funny in the weird, bizarre sense of "how in the hell would anybody think this was something I'd want for my birthday."

The day started well enough. It was a Saturday and, since it was my birthday, I was sleeping in. I rarely got to do that on regular weekends. Much to my surprise, Hannah, my wife of twenty years, woke me with a blowjob. That had not happened in a long, long time. In fact, I can't remember her ever having done it. She wasn't very fond of sucking dicks.

I'd been dreaming that my twenty-year-old secretary, Tammy, was under my desk at work, sucking my fat boner. It was just getting good when I woke up to find it was actually my wife sucking on my pecker.

"Holy shit!" I blurted out. Hannah was laying between my legs, gripping my cock near the base as she bounced her head up and down rapidly. When I spoke, she pulled off my cock and grinned at me.

"Happy Birthday, Henry," she said with a wink. She ran her open mouth down the shaft, all the way to her fingers, then back to the tip. She wrapped her mouth around it and resumed sucking me, with a hungry look in her eyes. I groaned and relaxed to enjoy the experience.

Blowjobs were pretty few and far between in the first place. If Hannah ever did suck my dick, she always made me pull out to cum. Most of the time, it never even got that far as halfway through the blowjob, she would just climb on and ride it until we both got off. She would rather fuck than suck.

It didn't take her long to bring me to the edge of cumming. I tried to get her to stop as I knew how she hated it when I came in her mouth. However, this time she just waved my hands away and kept sucking. She even started doing it faster and took her hand off the shaft as she tried to wedge my dick into her throat. She had never deep throated me before or even tried to, so I was surprised by her aggressiveness.

"Damn,'' I thought, "this is going to be a great birthday."

I blew my load, which was accompanied by a loud series of grunts, not from me, from Hannah. When I finished, she let my cock slide out of her mouth and grinned up at me. She made a big deal of swallowing, then wiped the spillage off her chin, sucking it from her fingers.

"Damn," she said, a little out of breath, "you came a lot! Gimme a kiss!" She climbed up, trying to push her face to mine. I pulled away, pushing on her shoulders.

"Ewww," I snarled, "Hell no! Go brush your damned teeth if you want a kiss."

She laughed and scampered away to the bathroom. I crawled out of bed, stretched and followed her, needing to drain my bladder. I stood at the toilet, raised the lid, pointed my cock at the large, open hole of the commode and proceeded to piss on the wall.

"Shit!" I cried out as I tried to direct the uncontrollable stream. "You bent my pee hole, woman!"

Hannah laughed with a mouth full of toothpaste and shook her head. "Clean that up!" she snapped at me, then spit and rinsed, tossing me a bottle of 409.

I sprayed the wall, and the floor with the cleanser then mopped up the mess with some paper towels. I brushed my teeth to get rid of any lingering morning breath.

Hannah pulled her nightgown off and slinked away, naked to lay on the bed. She spread her legs and started rubbing her pussy. "Hurry up!" she called out, "you got a job to do!"

I finished up and joined her on the bed. I'd like to say that at 49, Hannah still looked like she had when we got married. I'd like to, but that would be a lie. The truth was Hannah looked like what a 49-year old woman, with two kids, was supposed to look. Her hips were a lot wider than they used to be. Her ass had lost its sexy roundness and was oddly both plump and flat. I never really understood how she had managed to achieve that look. While her boobs were bigger than before, they were slightly deflated and sagged several inches below their youthful position. Her hair was more gray than auburn, and she had wrinkles on her face, crepe-like skin under her chin and age spots on her hands.

Hannah carried her age well enough, and I still found her sexy. She had always been pretty, and she still was. Dress her up, put some makeup on her, a pushup bra and some Spanx, and she could still turn all the heads at the local cowboy bar on Friday nights. I was a lucky man when we married, and I was still a lucky man after all this time.

It wasn't like Time had been any kinder to me. I definitely could lose a few pounds, if the dictionary defined "a few" as fifty. I had my share of gray hairs and wrinkles, too. I didn't work out. Gyms were for pussies. Only yuppies and transplants from California jogged. I kept my manly shape the right way. I did 12-ounce curls nightly and worked in the yard or out on our ranch. I didn't have a "dad bod," as I had recently heard about on Good Morning America. Instead, I had what you should probably call a Grand Dad bod.

Hey, at least I still had most of my hair, and my dick could get hard. It might not have been as hard as it had been at thirty, and it sometimes took more effort to get hard a second time, than it had in my youth. It was big, but not huge, at about 7.25 inches, and yes, that extra quarter inch matters. It did its job, and Hannah never complained.

In fact, Hannah usually seemed to like how well it worked. She and I enjoyed sex on a regular basis. By regular, I mean once a week, on a good week, but definitely no less than once a month, most months. Sometimes, we would forget to do it. But, when we remembered, we'd have a quickie, and that would hold us for a while.

So, today Hannah seemed hornier than usual, which surprised me. I assumed it was just her way of being nice to me for my birthday, but as I was about to find out, there was more going on than met the eye. I lay down next to her and squeezed one of her droopy boobs, kissing it on the wide areola, that never recovered from nursing our kids.

Hannah moaned and rolled onto her side to face me directly, allowing me better access to her body. "I want you to eat my pussy," she said as I sucked the nipple into my mouth and rolled my tongue around it. I released her tit with a pop and looked at her funny.

"What? It's my birthday!" I protested. She spread her legs wider and started pushing my head down, roughly.

"Well, this is your birthday pie," she laughed, "Eat up!"

I kissed down her wavy tummy and dragged my mouth through her furry little snatch. I pushed my mouth against her gash and rubbed my face back and forth, feeling her hot, little cunt spread its slickness on my skin. Keeping my mouth closed, I rubbed my lips against her and found that hard, little button, up near the top, where her fat pussy lips came together. I shook my head back and forth, rapidly, right on the nub, the way she liked it.

Hannah groaned and pulled my hair. "Lick it, baby, don't just tease me."

I sighed, then reluctantly opened my mouth, tentatively slipping my tongue out. Hadn't she ever heard that "real men don't eat pussy"? I used just the tip of my tongue and pushed it against her clitoris, moving it up and down. Hannah gasped and pulled my head more tightly against her wet pussy.

"Oh fuck," she cried out, "Right there, dammit. You're gonna make me cum."

Good. If Hannah came quickly, I could stop giving her oral and wipe the slime off my face. I closed my eyes, held my breath and lapped at her clit more roughly. Hannah bucked her hips and thrust into my face. I felt her body tense then jerk three times as something warm and wet flowed out against my chin. I jerked my face back.

"Did you just pee on me?" I snapped. Hannah opened her eyes and giggled.

"Maybe just a little," she said laughing, "but, I think that was just cum, baby."

I wiped at my chin and smelled it. My fingers were wet and sticky, but it didn't smell like piss. She grabbed my dick. It was hard again.

"Come here, birthday boy," she whispered. "Come here and fuck me."

She guided my dick to her wet pussy as I rolled over between her legs. I moved up and pushed it into her. She groaned and wrapped her feet around my hips, using them to pull me in deeper. I started fucking her, pumping my dick into her pussy. After all these years, I still loved the way her cunt gripped my cock. It was made for my dick and fit perfectly.

Hannah was panting and wiggling under me. She pulled my head to her tits and ran her fingers through my hair. I started sucking on her tits, switching back and forth from one to the other as my thrusting steadied into a slow, constant rhythm. Since I'd already cum once, I knew I'd be able to last at least five minutes, more if I went slowly.

"I have a big surprise for your birthday tonight, baby," Hannah said as she rocked her hips, her pussy squeezing my dick as it moved in and out.

"Mmmm," I said with a mouthful of tittie.

"Remember the new kid at my job, Darrel?" she asked as I fucked her. I wasn't expecting to have a conversation during sex. It distracted me, and my hips almost stopped moving. I quit sucking her tit and looked at her face.

"Yeah," I answered. I remembered Darrel. He was a smug, little shit that I'd met at a company softball game a few months ago. He thought he was all that. Athletic. Good looking. Cocky. The girls at Hannah's office all seemed to think he was something special. They fawned over the jackass, each one trying to outdo the other to get his attention. I'd even noticed Hannah flirting with the bastard.

He didn't look so smug when I hit a double off his ass in the third inning. I had no idea why Hannah was bringing his sorry ass up at a time like this. I would much rather not talk and finish fucking, like always. I tried to ignore it and thrust into her harder several times. Hannah gasped, then moaned, her hands sliding down to grab my ass.

After several seconds, Hannah caught her breath and spoke again. "I invited him over tonight for your birthday party," she said as she deliberately snapped her hips up and down while clenching her cunt hard on my dick. Her actions forced a whimper out of me, then I recovered and started pumping faster. She was a dirty, little fuck and I liked it. I didn't know why she felt the need to talk, though, and wished she would shut the fuck up and concentrate on banging.

I bit down on her nipple, and she squealed and giggled with delight. "Oh, fuck, baby," she exclaimed, as she clung to me more tightly. Her pussy seemed extra hot and doubly wet. I realized I might not make it to five minutes. I could already feel my nuts starting to tighten up.

I pushed myself up on to my hands, arms outstretched, back arched and started ramming my cock into her. She spread her legs wider and dug her heels into my ass. Her pussy was rising up hard to meet each of my thrusts. This was better. No talking. Just fucking. I was going to nut any second.

"I'm going to fuck him in front of you while you watch, for your birthday," Hannah said, then threw her head back and started cumming. "Yes! Yes! Fuck my pussy!"

I heard what she said, but somehow it didn't register in my brain. I was too busy. I let out a loud groan and started shooting my load into her.

"Yes!" she screamed, "Cum in my pussy! Cum in your slut!"

"Ungh!" I repeatedly grunted as I shot my sperm into her pussy. I came hard, my whole body shaking with each blast of seed. Finally, I was spent and dropped down next to her on the bed.

"What did you say?" I asked her, dazed by her words and thinking that maybe I'd imagined it.

Hannah kissed me and hugged me to her bosom. "I'm going to fuck Darrel tonight, here at the house. You're going to watch. Happy Birthday!" When she finished she tried to kiss me again, but I pulled my face back, out of reach, staring at her coldly.

"You're going to fuck Darrel?" I asked.

"Yes," she said.

"Tonight?" I asked.

"Yes," she answered.

"And you want me to watch?" I asked.

"Yes," she answered, nodding and wiggling her eyebrows at me. "It's going to be so fucking hot."

I guess I should have seen it coming, but as they say, hindsight is 20-20. As I lay there, I thought about the past few months. Ever since that dickhead had joined the company, Hannah had been working more extended hours, often coming home late. She had stopped going to work dressed like a frumpy, middle-aged homemaker, but had started wearing cuter, sexier and more revealing clothing.

She had told me about Darrel, long before I'd ever seen him. When he joined the company, Hannah volunteered to be his "buddy." It was something they did with new hires to help them learn the ropes and get used to the company. I never thought anything about it. He was a kid, and she was a mature woman. I never had any inkling that Hannah might have some seedy interest in a guy his age. It made my skin crawl.

I shuddered as more and more strange thoughts crept into my head.

I remembered the way she had introduced him to me. She kept touching him. There was nothing strange, just a hand on his arm, or on his shoulder, a pat on the back, a playful slap here and there. I never saw her do that to anybody but me, now that I thought about it.

I remembered that we ran out of ice at one point at the softball game and picnic. My mouth slowly opened as I realized that Hannah had volunteered to go to the store with Darrel to get more ice. Oh, shit. I recalled seeing how she was laughing and joking with him when they came back.

Then I remembered meeting her and her coworkers at Two Step Charlies for drinks after work a few Friday's in a row. He was always there. Come to think of it, he was always sitting next to Hannah. The touchy-feely shit had happened there too. With a cringe, I remembered them dancing. I recalled that one time I'd seen him put his hands on her ass when they were dancing. I had wanted to go over and punch the little bastard's lights out, but one of her coworkers distracted me.

When I had mentioned it to Hannah later, she blew it off. With a growing sense of dread, I realized that was the last time Hannah had asked me to join them. I never gave it two-seconds thought as I had a poker game on Friday nights that I was able to go to instead. As I lay there, with my cum still leaking out of my shrinking dick, I wished that I had continued to meet her instead of playing Texas Hold 'Em.

I couldn't think straight. I had a billion questions, but I was struggling to sort them out. Finally, I asked the big question: "Have you been fucking him?"

Hannah shook her head and slid out of bed to grab a towel. "No, honey," she said as she started wiping her pussy. "It hasn't gone that far. I was saving it for tonight. We're just going to do it this one time. It's not like I want to have an affair. This is for you, honey. You get to watch another man fuck me, then he's going to leave, and you and I are gonna fuck our brains out."

I was confused. At no point in our marriage had I ever said anything about wanting to watch Hannah fuck someone else. Hell, I didn't think Hannah was all that into sex, anyway. I mean we didn't fuck that much. Why would she want to fuck someone else?

"Why do you think I want to watch that little shit head fuck you?" I asked the shock and betrayal that I felt began to show.

Hannah grinned, "I saw the way you always watched us. You saw the way we flirted with each other. I could tell you liked it. You remember how hot the sex was that night after the softball picnic? You were a wild man!"

I thought about it a second. Hannah was right. I had been kind of rough that night, but it was because I was angry that she had been flirting with that punk.

"And," she continued, "you loved the way we would flirt on Friday nights at Two Step Charlies. You would sit there and watch me dancing with him. You never even tried to dance with me. You liked it that I danced with him all close and all. You know he had a hard-on and was rubbing it on my ass."

"I did?" No, I didn't. I had no clue. If I had, I would have whooped his ass.

"Yeah," she said as she sat back down next to me. "As soon as we got home, you attacked me, and we fucked like kids again. You hadn't touched me in weeks, but as soon as we go home that first Friday night, you were all over me it turned you on so much."

How in the hell did she misinterpret things this badly? That night I became furious that Hannah acted like such a slut. I wanted to show her that I was her husband and only I got to fuck her. So, yeah, I had fucked the hell out of her.

"Remember that one night we talked about it. You saw how he had his hands on my ass. He'd been feeling me up all night, and I admit I felt him a bunch too. I saw you watching us. I was afraid you were mad, but when we got home, you told me how much it turned you on."

"I did?" I asked, shaking my head, trying to clear out the confusion. I did no such thing.

"Yeah, remember?" she said, as she started cleaning my messy cock with the towel. "You said you saw Darrel had his hands on my ass and it got you hot! Then we had the hottest sex ever."

I turned my head and stared into the ceiling trying to bring back the memories of that night. I had told her that I had seen him playing with her ass. That much was correct. I told her that I was getting fired up and was about to jump in and take charge when her co-worker distracted me. I said it was a good thing she did, or I would have embarrassed everyone.

Fuck. I could see how Hannah had maybe misunderstood that.

"Uh, ok," I said. Hannah was right about the sex. We'd been having a lot of angry sex. It wasn't that seeing them messing around had turned me on. It was that seeing it had filled me with rage and I took it out on her pussy.

"You even gave me your permission to take it to the next level," she said, leaning down to kiss me. "I love you so much, you big stud."

"How did I do that?" I asked, curious to find out what she had misunderstood now.

"You told me that you wouldn't come to the Friday get-togethers anymore so that I could hang out with my 'boy toy' without you there. You said if you were there, you didn't know if you would be able to control yourself and didn't want to make a scene in front of my coworkers."

I stared open-mouthed at my wife in complete disbelief. Hannah was delusional. The only way she could have been stupid enough to interpret my words and actions this badly was because she wanted to fuck Darrel. So, she heard what she wanted to hear. I had been in a rage that night. My face was red, and I yelled at her. It was the closest I'd ever come to striking a woman in my life.

"And you were a monster that night!" she said sexily. "You spanked me and fucked me in the ass. I had a hard time sitting right for a few days from you being so rough."

I sat up. I wanted to puke. I couldn't believe this was the same woman I married and with whom I raised two kids.

"You said you hadn't fucked yet?" I asked, holding out hope that it was not too late to fix this problem. As long as she hadn't cheated, I could chalk this all up to an epic misunderstanding. We could get through this. Hell, we might even laugh about it in a few years. "Right?"

"Right," she said. "So far, only a few blowjobs. We go out at lunch every day, and I blow him in his car. Oh, and on Fridays, we do 69. Charlie's has this little back room that's perfect for it. Oh, and after I told him you took my anal cherry, he begged me to let him do it. I figured that's not the same as really fucking, so I said ok. He's done that a couple of times, so far. But, no, he's never fucked me, I mean, not in the pussy. We're saving that for tonight."