The Next Morning

I'd passed out, exhausted from the sex, about 2 in the morning, with my wife's satisfied murmurs fading into slumber right beside me, the tremors of my exploding inside her still rocking me, whether physical or emotional, not sure, just deeply satisfying tremors, proud of myself for making her come, delirious in the afterglow of shooting off several ripping spurts.

Two hours later came wild images, bursting from my dreams, things we'd never done, sights I'd never seen, fantasies turned real, or were those dreams, too?

Feeling the weight on my wife's side of the bed tilt me toward her as she changed positions, reaching out for her body, barely believing how lovely she looked in the darkness, giving up to fall asleep again.

It was one of those nights where a million thoughts crowd into one brain, interrupting sleep, denying sleep, my wife already awake when I awoke, me being only half awake half the time and dazed with my thoughts the rest of the time. Mistakes I'd made came back at me, stuff I'd said I kinda wish she'd never heard me say, my wonderful life with my wonderful wife, her sexy sexy ways right there in bed with me.

Her sounds of love-making came to me while I dreamed, her words of love whispered in my ears as I took her again in the dark, more sighs, more wails of ecstasy than usual. Her pretty voice letting me know she was still cumming, cumming, even as I floated between sleep and the sweet haze of orgasm.

But suddenly something had just awakened me early in spite of not getting much sleep last night.

And now my thoughts swam up to me through the early glimmers of understanding. It was dawn. It was after dawn. The shaft of sunlight coming between the drapes was hot. My eyes were opened to the truth.

I reached out for her hand as I always do when I wake up with her in bed with me. I found her little fingers beside her thigh. She was flat on her back. I meshed my fingers in hers. I still stared straight up.

"You awake?" I knew she was, but ...

She answered with just a soft squeeze.

"Everything OK?" I asked.

"Yeah. ... You ok?"

"Think so."

I rolled onto my side, happy to find her more in the middle of the bed, more toward my side with a wide-open area on her other side. We often slept like this though, as she liked to snuggle up against me.

I was surprised to find that half her torso was not covered all along the side away from me. She never slept that way unless she got hot. I enjoyed the treat. Her full breast was electrifying in its naked beauty. However, there were still red marks around the tip from all that sexual activity during the night. I would've thought they'd have faded by now. I glanced at the sun rays again, as if to check the time.

But I knew what it was. I craned my neck toward her, and she tilted her face a tiny bit my way.

I kissed her, right on the lips. Her kiss back was shallow, sweet, but reticent. I knew why.

She's shy sometimes in the morning after a night of wild sex, and indeed the taste of cum was strong in her kiss, even though her lips did not open to me.

My hand idly skimmed down her chest. I do so love the top slope of her breast. This morning already the tip was hard, like a pearl button in a silk blouse.

I was happy but not surprised to feel her responding that quickly.

I raised up on my other elbow to get a better viewing angle at the pink nub of her breast scissored firmly between my finger knuckles. From that height, I could look down, following the contours of her body. I could see that the sheet and duvet only covered one leg as well. Her shapely thigh, her taut skin stretched across her hip bone, and her creamy flat tummy were all exposed, but of course my gaze was drawn to the magic triangle between my wife's gorgeous blonde legs.

She has a very pretty pussy, and this early morning her lips down there were still tight and puffy from the hard fucking she had gotten last night. Indeed, she was so swollen I thought for a moment that I'd been too rough on her, but then I remembered her sobs had been those of intense pleasure, not pain.

She's always shaved herself completely, which I love, making it so easy to see everything she has. A bit of dampness glistened there already, from my caressing her breast, I guessed. My fingers swept toward those luscious peach-pink lips, but she winced slightly when I rubbed across them.

"Tender, Darling?" I whispered.

She frowned, then slightly nodded 'yes.'

"Well, you certainly deserve a break after that spectacular performance you put on last night! Shall I go make coffee while we give this pretty thing some recovery time?" I very gently patted her damp pussy.

"Well ... coffee would be nice."

I smiled at my wife's hint. She seemed to always be ready for sex, which is one of the reasons I love her.

The toilet flushed. Loud as a cherry bomb in the master bathroom on the other side of the pocket door.

I flinched hard, whispering loudly, "I thought he was gone."

"No," my wife whispered. "You were still sleeping --"

I gripped her fat pussy with my whole fist, two fingers slipping easily inside. It was hot and wet, and she groaned with half-shut eyelids, enjoying the twinge of sensitivity this time. My eyes widened with understanding. I hoarsely whispered, "Did he just fuck you?"

She gave a tight little shake of her head 'no.'

"Finger-fuck you?" My wife sighed with a grim face and shrugged. "Oh, he licked you! Your clit!"

"Honey yes, but --"

The ugly rolling roar of the pocket door opening interrupted my wife's confession.

There stood the man from last night. The guy we'd met at the Pub. The guy who said he was renting the condo down the lane from ours. The guy who walked home with us, helping me support my wife from his side with a strong arm around her waist, us all laughing and staggering in our lusty drunken state of mind, the man, Brett, I think it was, who lurched against my wife in the alcove while I fumbled with the house keys, kissing her and feeling her big tits, mumbling something about "having a thing for a pretty blonde." The man quick enough to get her shirttail out and his hand up under it while I opened our door.

This morning he was silhouetted naked in the doorway by the nightlight in the bathroom behind him.

In spite of the chaos of memories of last night and the shock of seeing him again when I had thought I never would, I noticed two details: he was brushing his teeth with my toothbrush and his dick was considerably more than half hard.

He took the brush out of his mouth and pointed with it at my wife's groin.

"Mornin'," he said louder than necessary. "You look even more beautiful in the daylight."

"Thank you," she mumbled, looking between his legs as he stretched and his cock hardened even more.

"It's not cold," he said, flipping the rest of the covers off her. "Wo!" he said as his eyes roamed up from her wet crotch to both red-nippled tits. "Damn, damn, damn! How you look so good in the morning?"

"I uh --"

"Specially after the night you had last night!" The man grinned briefly over at me, acknowledging my presence for the first time. In the daylight he looked less trim, less of a hard body than I'd thought last night. He cocked his head back at her. "What'd we fuck you like, 4-5 times? Not countin' the blow jobs?"

My wife ducked a bit to hear those words. But she did not dispute his math.

As for me, I could only remember us doing her once each. Not counting the blow jobs.

It dawned on me that he was bragging that he'd used her without me knowing. I quickly realized that he must've fucked her a couple more times while I slept. So, not all of those dreams in the middle of the night were really dreams. He was ignoring me totally again, smirking at her body like he owned it.

"And then to be so tasty still this morning," he threw his chin my way, "woke the old man up, moanin' so loud when you cummed." He grinned like a guilty eight-year-old. "I told ya to shush, didn't I?"

She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. I was in the process of untangling myself from the covers he'd tossed onto me, tucking the sheet and spread down between my wife and me. I wanted to reach up to cup her chin toward me, to kiss her, to let her know it was ok, he'd be gone soon, so we could talk.

While I tried to make eye contact with my wife, he never stopped joking. "I feel great this morning, thanks to you, darlin'." While he said this, the bed shifted with his weight on the other side of my wife. His large shoulders threw a shadow over my wife's face before I could kiss her. I looked down her body, and this guy had one knee beside her thigh and the other knee up in the air looking down for a place to put it between her legs. My wife and I stared at his dick bobbing in space. It looked smaller in daylight.

The man climbing onto my wife caused the bed to shift, throwing me off balance, so I rocked back away from her to catch myself, and he handed me my toothbrush.

His bicep flexed under the sharp-tipped tribal tatt that shimmered like blue steel flames stabbing down from his shoulder and onto a hard slab of shaved pec. It made me want one of those for a sec.

"Here, baby," he said to her, working both knees in between my wife's thighs. "Spread 'em," he commanded, then looked up from where he had his large, rock-hard erection poised just above her slit.

"Look at you with your pretty blonde hair all a mess." He lowered his body in a push-up and rubbed his chest across her straining nipples. When he tried to kiss her, she turned her head toward me with a desperate look. He kissed the corner of her mouth anyway. "Still got some dried cum on your cheek there, baby." He licked a thumb and rubbed it across the smear of cum on her face to clean her up a bit.

"UNNH!" my wife yelped through his mouth kissing her lips as her entire body jolted backwards. He reared up and locked his elbows as my wife arched her back, offering him her nips to scrape again.

I looked down to see his thick cock once again piercing her gorgeous pussy. My wife's legs rose up up up as he mounted her. He had to rock his weight side to side, working his dick in an inch at a time. She mewled a little sob each time another motion pinched her, but she rocked with him, helping him get fully embedded. Her toes finally pointed up at the ceiling as his cock got firmly jammed into her snatch.

"mmm, thaaat's right, you gettin' allll wet now, aren't ya?" he sang to her. I couldn't stop staring at it.

"You like her like this?" he asked. I looked up from where his pubic bush obscured my view of her split- open gash. His face portrayed an odd empathy for me, a sort of camaraderie. "Yeah you do," he said. "This must look awesome to you." Then he pulled back just a bit and slammed back in, like it was for me.

A glance back at her face showed me her eyes were screwed shut, her face intensely rigid. "Watch," he told me and slammed her again. She grimaced even more, if possible. "She loves this too, man," he said, "don't ya baby?" and he slammed it in again. "Don't ya? You can smile for us, baby. Smile." Slam! Her body jolted, and she smiled a soft, flat smile. He pulled way back and slammed her again, and then his face came between us and he was kissing her faint smile. My wife's mouth began kissing him back, and I felt the bed had started a rhythmic jolting as he slammed his dick up her cunt, over and over and over ...

They fucked for a while, steady like that, and I began to think that he was not able to come again so soon after the three times between midnight and dawn. He pulled back out and showed her his rod.

"Put it back," she said, her eyes having opened, a blazing glare on her face. "Put it back in me, dammit."

I knew she was close and needed to come. She grabbed his dick in her fist and guided it into herself.

He held it there, just the head barely in, just keeping her open but not filled up. "Say it."

"Oh God, do it! do it baby, do it," she begged the man. Brett I think his name was. Or Brent maybe.

He lunged forward, his thick cock slicing into my wife's tight cunt. He swiveled his hips, grinding his dick deep in her body. Back all the way out, a pause, then all the way back in he shoved it. All the way out, pause, then in all the way and grinding. This was his new rhythm, and she responded "yes ... yes ... yes" every time he hit her clit on the down stroke.

Within minutes, she was wailing as she came hard on his dick, and he was growling "fuuuuck babe" as he pinned her down and pulsed several shots of cum deep in her body. They held together like that, both shuddering in climax for a minute, then he looked over at me pumping my hard dick and winked.

"I'm done," he announced. "Your turn."

He ripped his dick out of her so violently she squealed. He stood up, dripping jizz on our floor. "I'm all dirty. Gotta take a shower," he said grinning, and he strode through the doorway into the master bath.

As I heard the glass door to the shower slam shut, I crammed my dick into my wife's steaming cunt and pounded her till I came like a stallion. She didn't come. I didn't care. That was not the point.

The whole time I fucked her, I smothered her face with kisses, murmuring "I love you" a dozen times. She held me close in a loving hug, repeating "love you too," her face buried in the front of my shoulder.

I refused to get off her and held myself inside her even after I began to lose my erection.

The man came out of the shower. I peeked at him with my head still face down on her pillow. He was dressed, with his cellphone in his hand. He said to us, "You guys are very cool. I'm'onna get home now."

When neither of us said anything, he called over his shoulder as he left, "See ya 'round, at the Pub." And the man slammed our front door shut, though it was still unlocked.