Quinton
I sat in the love seat, not really caring if my wet swim trucks were harming the material. Nothing in this house was cheap, so I'd probably just ruined some exotic leather from some rarely heard of country. I rubbed my dick through my shorts, trying not to cum from the scene that was playing out before me. Deep feeling of jealously and inadequacy welled from deep inside. The emotion was intense and exquisite. Watching Nick take my wife was killing me. He was probably my closest friend, but he seemingly had everything. The nice house, the better job, more money, nicer cars, a wife with huge tits, and now my wife wrapped around his cock. After seeing his cock, there was no way I was going to be pulling mine out. I was going to have a hard time letting my wife see it after this.
Nick's ass muscles clinched each time he thrust into my wife, bringing out new cries of pleasure from her with each penetration. They were both slicked with sweat by the time Nick began to tire. He moved to the sofa and slowly set Sam on her back, his cock never leaving its quiver. I'd been reading about men's fantasies who want their wives' to be stretched out by larger cocks, forever ruining their wives' pussies for themselves. I'd also read about how elastic a vagina could be, and it would also return to normal after a time, even if it was stretched out. I didn't understand that particular fantasy when I'd read it, but seeing my wife's pussy lips so stretched, I felt a powerful wave of lust come over me as I imagined how stretched out she would be after being with Nick.
My eyes were seeing the scene in front of me, but my brain still refused to believe it. Sam's legs hooked around Nick's lower back and he quickened his pace, driving his monster rod into her now sopping wet pussy. The sounds of her cries were pure ecstasy from hearing her pleasure, and pure hell from knowing I could never give her that pleasure. The mix of the two emotions was a powerful aphrodisiac and made my thoughts dissolve into mists of haze.
Not one to be left out, Julie pushed her husband back so that she could squeeze in. straddling Sam's face with her legs, she lowered her pussy to Sam's waiting mouth. Julie now faced Nick and they began to kiss while Nick continued to fuck my wife and Julie ground her sex into my wife's face. This would make a million dollars if it ever got out online, I thought, trying not to cum.
I wasn't watching the time, but the threesome went of for some time before Nick finally began to cum. He thrust in hard, causing my wife to wince and cry out from the too deep penetration. Realizing his mistake, Nick pulled out too far and the end of his cock came all the way out. When he thrust forward again, his cock grazed the top of her lips as it slid forward. Thick ropes of cum shot onto my wife's stomach and breasts. Nick slumped back onto his haunches and then laid completely down on the sofa. He looked spent. I caught a glimpse of my wife's pussy and holy fuck, it looked nothing like what I expected to see. It was gaping open, the lips red, swollen, and soaking wet. Cum dripped from the open hole, as it began to contract shut, small shudders visually rippling as it did. Sam's pussy always looked so neat and tidy, but now it looked raw and even ragged.
Julie came then, and let out a low moan. Both the women were breathing hard as Julie lifted herself up and off of my wife. She sat next to Sam on the couch and, using the palm of her hand, smeared her husband's cum all over my wife's skin, like it was some kind of natural moisturizer. The glistening cum on her stomach and breasts, mixed with the juices left on her face from Julie's pussy, and the sheen of sweat from the physical exertion made it look like my wife had just been dipped in baby oil. I don't think she's ever looked hotter in her life.
For several long minutes, the three laid there on the couch, all breathing hard but no one speaking. Finally, my wife sat up and swung her legs over the side. Standing up, she wobbled slightly as she began to walk towards me. Sam took me by the hand. With directions to the bathroom with a shower, she pulled me in her wake and made her way to the bathroom. As soon as the door closed, she pushed my shorts down and went to her knees. I felt her mouth around my dick, taking all of me with little effort. I came in less than a minute, but it was a powerful orgasm, at least for me, but Sam still had no trouble swallowing all of my meager load. When she stood, I could still see her eyes were filled with lust. She pulled my head down to her and kissed me deeply, forcing me to taste myself, as well as Julie on her lips and tongue. I wrapped her slicked body into my arms and pulled her close. We kissed furiously like that for several long minutes before she pulled away.
Sam didn't speak. She opened the shower and turned the faucet until the water sprayed from the showerhead. I didn't need to be told. We entered the shower and I wanted her neck. I found the spot where Julie had left a deep red mark and planted my lips next to it. I heard as much as felt my wife's throaty moan. She grabbed my arm, worked her hand down it and clutched at my hand, planting it on her lower lips and guiding my fingers to her wanting pussy. A heat raged between her thighs. She felt white hot to me. She cried and gasped as if in relief as my fingers entered her, and I felt the tale-tale muscle spasms of her orgasm. Pushing my hand away, she again went to her knees, but this time she took my dick into her hand and began to stroke me.
Despite how erotic this was and how turned on I felt; I knew I wasn't going to be getting an erection any time soon. I took her by the hand and stopped her. "Sam," I said as soothingly as I could, "Stop, please."
She stopped. The warm water cascaded over us. "Quin," she said miserably, "I need more." Her hand pushed at me again, but I held her wrist firmly. After a few seconds, I felt her relax. Feeling I had a window, I took her into my arms. As soon as I did, she nearly collapsed into me. I supported her as I squatted down and sat on the shower floor, pulling her tightly into my chest. She clutched at my arm as I held her, but slowly her breathing began to steady and I felt her grip relax. "How do you not hate me?" she said, her voice small and vulnerable.
My heart was in my throat as I knew I was seconds away from confessing everything. I inhaled a deep breath and held it for a moment, knowing everything was going to change now. "The truth is, Sam. I..." my throat suddenly felt like it swelled shut.
Sam shifted and looked up at me, "What is it Quin?" she asked, fear again filling her eyes.
I steeled my nerves but couldn't meet her gaze. "Sam," I began again, "the truth is that I've never been sexually more excited than I have been these last couple of weeks. I love you. Don't ever doubt that. And our sex life is probably as good as I'm capable of—it's fucking embarrassing as hell, but the truth is that I get off thinking of you with other guys. I know—how fucked up that is," I said, feeling like a dam had broken. The words seemed to flow now. "You're beautiful. You're nearly perfect. And yet I get more excited thinking about you with other guys rather than having you all to myself. I mean shit, the look on your face when you were with Nick was indescribable."
"It's not you, you're—," she began to say, before I cut her off.
"—This is all I've got, so yes. It's me," I said, grabbing my small dick, "but I don't want me to keep you from experiencing things like with Garrett, or even Nick... fuck, or even Julie for that matter. I don't think I've ever seen anything that fucking hot before."
I forced myself to look down and meet Sam's eyes. She had a stunned, unbelieving look in her eye. She stared at me for a long moment, I think trying to determine whether I was being honest or not. Finally, she spoke, "You're not pissing around, yeah. Not having a go?"
I shook my head and held her gaze, "No. I'm completely serious."
Another long, silent pause. Only the sound of the shower filled the space between us. She slowly began to shake her head, a soft laugh escaped her full lips, "How bloody mental are we?" she said, leaning her head against my chest again.
"Pretty mental I guess," I said, squeezing her shoulders.
I felt her sigh against me, then say, "Quin, there are some things I need to tell you, and I need you to just listen, alright?"
Of course, I agreed. She began to talk, telling me details about her early life I'd never heard before. About her real mother and about being expelled from boarding school. About her experience with young love with her roommate Victoria. It explained a lot, and I began to understand the animosity between her and my in-laws. While all this information was new to me, it wasn't hard to listen to or accept. It was just part of her past, part of who she was. But as her narrative came closer to present day, the subjects brought a raw emotion that tore at my understanding of myself.
Sam's eyes closed and she took a deep cleansing breath, "I'm sorry I've never told you those things before. I wanted to, but it felt like I had a fresh start when I moved here, and I wanted to forget about those things... It's all bullocks. The whole thing. The stupid family. My vindictive mum. My spineless dad. My self-centered brothers," her voice began to strain with emotion, "I thought I'd put this all behind me, but lately if feels like it's all trying to come to the surface again." Sam placed her open palm on my chest, "...the truth is, and I don't say this to be insensitive, it's just that, well, except for the feelings of guilt, the experience with Garrett was brilliant... and today... today has been so intense," she continued to explain, picking and choosing her words carefully, trying to tell me the truth but fearful that it would hurt me too much.
"Thanks for telling me all of that... It's a lot to process," I said, a thousand questions now burning in my mind. But they could come later. When we were at home. Instead I asked, "Do you want to continue?"
"You mean today?" she said.
I shrugged. I meant in general, but today worked, "Yeah."
She looked at me again, her eyes searching mine as she asked, "Would you be alright with that?" her voice was soft, but I could still hear the hope behind her words. She wanted me to say yes. I wanted to say yes. But common sense screamed at me that we were standing on the precipice of the unknown.