I wrote a similar story many years ago, but kept coming back to it in my mind. This is the story from the wife's point of view, and in many ways a very different story from the original. Some comments stuck out in my mind, and I just had to take those and other thoughts into it. This story will get more extreme and wild as it progresses. Enjoy.
Also, my thanks to kenjisato for excellent editing help.
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I could barely believe that we'd gotten this far. For the last month we had been talking about every angle, checking with each other, backing away, then getting excited again. I could still vividly remember when Tom first brought up the idea very very hesitantly about him sharing me with another man about us doing a threesome.
I had reacted immediately jumping up, pacing, throwing out harsh comments. What was wrong with our relationship? Didn't he fancy me anymore? What was wrong with me? As I said those things, in my irrational brain, I was suddenly and deeply aroused. What was wrong with me?
I had stopped myself, calmed my emotions and sat down. I just couldn't look at him. "All right, I'm not saying yes or no, but I want to hear from you, why?"
I could tell he was panicked himself, sure that he'd messed up. "I love you, so much. I love every inch of your body. There is a part of me that wants to share that excitement about you, to be with another who can fancy you like I do. Together, see if we can take you to a different place. This isn't about an open marriage. I would hate it if you went off and had sex with another man in secret, and I have no desire to go out and have sex with random women. This is about us, sharing you, seeing if we can do something bold and wild and... maybe beautiful. Not love; I'd equally hate it if you loved another man, just... wild, mad sex."
It had been the perfect thing to say. Absolutely perfect. I didn't respond, I just threw myself at him. Later, we talked, tested our own and each other's emotions.
We laid down some ground rules. Away from the home; the two of us, plus one. Someone carefully selected. I would be blindfolded, as this was about the experience, and not about who the other was. There had to be an STD test before, and we would after. I... wanted it bareback, and I was a little surprised when he didn't quibble. No kissing for me, although he seemed he wanted to argue that, but didn't push it. I wasn't opposed to mild bondage, we did that anyway; toys were okay. Not too rough, but we both knew I liked it a little rough. I actually thought I might like it very rough, but this wasn't the time. We both set safe words if either of us got uncomfortable, it stopped.
So here we were. In a hotel room with our babysitter at home. I was naked under a bathrobe except for a pair of red knickers. That was pushing the boat out for me. I'd always been a little bit frightened of overly sexy lingerie. I knew Tom would like me to do that more, but it made me uncomfortable in ways I struggled to express.
There was a knock at the door. Tom helped me into the leather blindfolds, and he also slipped in ear defenders. That surprisingly excited me. I'd neither see nor hear him. He helped me stand, then I felt him step away. I could just make out sounds a deep, rumbling male voice, but words I couldn't quite get. They got close, then just like that, a hand grabbed my hip, pulling me close, and other lips crushed mine. Weird. In all my fantasies, I hadn't expected that, a hard kiss, with a tongue pushing between my lips.
I pulled away, that wasn't what I wanted.
Then, hands on my head; Tom's hands, turning my head back. Other lips grazing mine, other teeth tugging at my lip. Tom wanted this, did he? I heard myself moan, and kissed him back.
Again, other hands, which with a jerk I thought must be Tom, was behind me, taking off the bathrobe. And just like that, I was naked in front of another man. I almost came with the deep thrill, the deep taboo it gave me. A hand was on my breast. I was proud of my breasts, two kids breast fed, and they still stood proud. I gasped into the mouth, as my nipple was pinched, hard.
He broke away, leaving me gasping like a fish. Together, they sat me down. There was a slight pause, then two bodies sat down either side of me. My face was turned, and I sighed to recognise lips I knew. I could tell he was super excited; this was the best kiss I'd had from my man in years. Yet... another man's arm was around my shoulders, another man's hand slid down my belly. I pulled away from Tom, and turned to kiss the other. I couldn't help but compare. He was... better. That felt disloyal, but with a flip of my tummy, Tom had broken that rule, had wanted me kissed.
Tom actually yanked my knee up over his leg, making me available, as that hand slid into my knickers. I was wet, hot, and oh god, those fingers knew what to do. My head was forced back the other way, and I was kissed insistently again, as this man fingered me. Groaning, I felt Tom's lips encircle a nipple, biting me slightly. Oh god, this was an almost-overwhelming sensation. Two hands took my wrist and lifted my hand, moving it away from Tom. When I touched hot flesh, I jerked my hand back instinctively. This was another man's cock, yet they held me, moved me back. I didn't flinch this time, and again, almost came as my fingers went around another cock. Oh god, I was touching another man's cock. That arm around my shoulders turned me towards him, focusing me on him, and I was beyond thought, as I did.
Fingers tangled in my hair, tugging painfully, manoeuvring my head downwards. I held back this was such a big step but that hand in my hair gave me little choice, and I just groaned, as my lips parted to accept another cock. He smelled not like Tom, clean, but with an underlying musk that was different, and so very deeply attractive. I pulled the scent of him in, as I tasted his cock. Perhaps, a bit thicker than Tom? Maybe a touch longer? Was it cruel to compare?
My free hand was pulled back, and with a start, I realised I'd been forgetting Tom. When my fingers wrapped around him, it hit me, deeply, that I had one cock in my hand, another in my mouth. I came. Not a big one, but all the more sweet. I was moved to my knees, and my head was pulled over to Tom, back to Him. At one point, my face was lifted off Him and I was slapped, when my lips wrapped around Him, I was doubly hungry. Tom had never slapped me, ever. The sting on my cheek told me it was something I wouldn't object to, if it happened again.
I heard Tom say, "We agreed, no hitting."
I barked, surprised at myself, "Tom, chill." The man's deep chuckle, sent shivers down my back.
Then, in a flash, I was effortlessly lifted, thrown on the bed on my face. My hips were pulled up, and just like that, a cock not my husband's slid my lower lips apart then speared me to the root, as all breath left my lungs. I had never been entered like that, ever. Goodness knows I was wet enough. There had been lovers before Tom, not many, but enough. I had been content with Tom, not excited, but in a comfortable, loving partnership. I would have died content to never have another cock but his.
A deep, dark part of my brain was telling me that this had been wrong. That I needed to be fucked suddenly, hard and fast, by another cock. I tried to lock away the disloyal thought, that this would not be the last time, but it kept slipping out.
As this man fucked me hard, I could make out an almost-panicked Tom just at my ear. "Darling, are you all right?" My answer was to reach for his cock, to take him in my mouth. I didn't want to talk.
Later, I would figure out that they had kept at me for a couple of hours. I'd never ever had sex last that long. For me, it was timeless. Tom confessed that taking turns meant they could take a break, a step back from the cliff's edge of orgasm. They moved me around, had me on my knees, had me ride them, had me missionary. Often, while one fucked me, the other was in my mouth, but there was a lot of kissing, too. I found myself searching for HIS mouth, not Tom's. I had to be slapped or spanked sometimes, to be reminded to work them with my mouth and not get lost to the glorious fucking. I didn't mind, I liked the spanking, the slapping, the hair tugging. I felt debased and adored, every fucking second of it. This was the sex I didn't even let myself fantasise about.
I think both men came more than once, but I wasn't very consciously aware. I was just raw-animal-sex incarnate. Eventually it ended, and god knows how many times I'd orgasmed. I just lay sprawled on the bed, where they left me. Vaguely, I heard them talking, heard the door, and then knew it was back to just us two.
Tom took off the blindfold, and took out the rubber ear defenders. I could sort of focus on his words and face. "Darling, are you all right?"
I didn't want wasn't able to talk, but I was able to nod. I felt a goofy smile on my face. He lifted me up, carefully washed me off in the shower, dressed me, then let me sleep.
The next morning, our lovemaking, not sex, was soft and gentle. I ached in places I'd never ached before, so it was what I needed. Afterwards, he wanted to talk. I put a finger to his lips, "Not yet. I need to process it. Let's just go home."
So we did. I stared out the window as he drove us away, watching the world go by. That last night had been life altering. I wasn't sure how to express it to Tom, that he had unleashed something in me. We had talked that this could be a one-time thing, but the instant HE had entered me hard and fast like that, I had instantly known this couldn't be the one time. I just didn't know how to tell Tom that in a way that would not harm our love.
I still loved him. He was the father of our children, and my partner. I had to find a way to keep that, but I also knew I needed that raw, wild sex again. I wanted that with him, I thought, so that's why I needed to think.
Our life returned to normal, though our bedroom time was pretty wild. He learned to spank my bottom as we fucked, and to tug at my hair; though, he admitted, slapping me was possibly beyond him. He wanted to talk about it, but I hadn't quite figured it out yet.
A couple of days later, he accidentally left his phone behind. We both knew each other's codes, so I opened it up. And it didn't take long to find the WhatsApp streams with various men.
He had been careful, rejecting the ones I was glad he rejected. Ones that were obvious misogynists, or disrespectful, or weirdly-just-sent dick pics. I finally found the one that I became certain was him. Tom had indeed been careful. There was a very recent STD test. Safe words had been exchanged, one for him too, curiously. At first, I was a bit put out that the night, at least at the start, had been choreographed, but then I became oddly pleased that they had focused on how to maximise my pleasure. I shrugged when it had been agreed I would be kissed, Tom had been insistent. That Fury was out of Pandora's box. I would be kissing other men now.
I noted down the number, and it only took me a day to work up my nerve to call him.
"Hello?"
