My Best Friend Dates My Wife

At my age my libido is diminishing and I only have the occasional dream about sex. Sometimes I wake up with a hard-on, but I haven't had nocturnal emissions since I was in my early twenties. That night, I had many sexual dreams that were unbelievably realistic. I woke up a couple of times, to the sensation of the egg humming away in my ass, on its lowest setting. It didn't keep me from sleeping, but it felt fantastic just throbbing in my rectum.

I guess I was leaking all night, because I woke up with a massive erection, and I was lying in a large pool of ejaculate. There was no physical sensation of an actual orgasm, but Sara had drained my nuts. My wife seemed very pleased with herself. My erection was not going away, as long as that egg was vibrating in my asshole. And I needed to take a piss badly. I asked her if she could please turn the egg off, so that I could pee.

Once the vibration subsided, my cock softened, and I was able to urinate. Apparently, Sara had other plans for me though, because she fired up the egg as soon as I returned from the bathroom. She watched in amusement, as my cock slowly stiffened before our eyes. Then she told me to stay in the bedroom, until she called for me. I sat on the bed, with my cock still throbbing, as the egg teased the nerve endings in my ass.

About twenty minutes later, Sara called out for me to come into the bathroom. I opened the door, and stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of my wife. She had really made an effort to get me excited, and looked sensational. She was wearing the exact same Dior designer dress, that Adrian had enjoyed her in the previous night. She was leaning over the bathroom counter top, with her hands against the mirror.

Sara's hair was brushed perfectly straight, and her makeup was flawless. She had applied pink lip gloss to her lips, and had painted her nails in the same shade of pink. Her short silk pink dress was riding up her ass, as she bent over the counter. The straps of her pink garter belt were exposed, and she had on some sexy pink stockings. She wore sky high fuck-me pumps, that elevated her waist above the counter top.

Sara was wiggling her ass seductively, as if inviting me to fuck her. Her pink panties were draped over the hand towel rail, arranged in such a way that the cum stained crotch, was clearly visible. We made eye-contact in the mirror, and she smiled at me.

"Mount me from behind, baby," she told me.

I moved up slowly behind her, and pointed my cock towards the entrance of her pussy. Sara moved one of her hands from the mirror, and reaching under her dress, grabbed the tip of my cock. Then she pulled me forward and guided me into her wet pussy. I knew the rules now, and was fully aware that I had actually entered the pocket pussy, not "Adrian's pussy" as we jointly referred to it.

However, it felt so realistic, and the visual my wife created was so sexy, that I just went with it. Sara was laying on top of the pocket pussy, holding it firmly in place. It was positioned right under her vagina, and she had taken the time to warm it to body temperature. So, to me, it felt exactly like I was fucking my wife.

Sara put both hands on the mirrored wall, so that she could push back against me, as I pounded her from behind. The egg continued to provide anal stimulation, and I knew I was going to come very quickly again.

"Sara, I am not going to last long," I said through my ragged breathing.

My wife and I made eye-contact in the mirror as we fucked. "I know baby," she said with a giggle. "You have become quite the premature ejaculator since Adrian and I started fucking regularly."

I let out a groan, and Sara realized I was responding favorably to her dirty talk about her black lover.

"Adrian fucked me last night wearing this exact same outfit" she teased. "He helped himself to your wife on your birthday. He bent me over the bathroom counter just like you are doing. Only difference was Adrian used me in a public bathroom. He didn't even take my panties off. I just pulled them to one side and he slipped right inside his pussy. See his cum in my panties, baby?"

I took one look at her pink, cum-stained panties, hanging from the hand towel rail, and erupted inside my wife. Well, at least into the pocket pussy, that was situated right under the real thing. I came really hard, the pleasure intensified by the vibrating egg in my asshole.

Sara remained bent over the counter top, continuing the illusion that I was buried balls deep, inside her tight warm pussy. Finally, as I regained my composure, I slowly withdrew my softening cock from the pocket pussy. To my wife's credit, she really tried to make it feel and look realistic, and I left the bathroom feeling completely satisfied.

We had breakfast together, and Sara kept saying that we could make this work. She would give Adrian a little taste from time to time, to ensure that the lewd pictures didn't get sent, and also continuous use of her beloved egg. My wife and I could simulate sex using the pocket pussy, which didn't technically violate any of Adrian's rules. She would never leave me, as long as we could maintain the status quo.

"This will work,baby," Sara kept saying. "We can make this work."

I wasn't at all happy with Adrian having exclusive rights to Sara's body, but at this point, would have done anything to keep her. We settled into a routine that was acceptable to all parties involved. Adrian would send a car for my wife once a week, and they would be gone, for somewhere between two and eight hours. Depending on his mood, they would either go dancing or to dinner, occasionally even the movies.

At some time during the evening, it was time to earn her "egg privileges". He would make her beg him for continued access to the egg, and she would offer sexual favors in return. Sara found this the most demeaning part of the evening. So unnecessary. They both knew that she was going to pleasure him. Why did he make her beg every single time?

Once he had generously agreed to trade sex, for access to the egg, Sara had to thank him profusely. Then she would either suck him off, or he would fuck her, either in her pussy or her ass. He would usually give her notice if he was in the mood for anal, so that she could cleanse her anal passage.

Sara liked anal sex the least, not because it was painful or demeaning. But rather because she could not enjoy the vibrating egg, when he ass-fucked her. She was allowed to wear it when she sucked his cock, or when they had vaginal sex. In fact, he encouraged it. I think he got his jollies, when she orgasmed, while she gave him a blowjob.

Adrian seemed emboldened by the lack of pushback from Sara and I. In a very short period of time, we had made many concessions to him, with no obvious signs of resistance.

He now enjoyed once a week "date night" with Sara, exclusive access to her pussy, mouth and ass, and the satisfaction of knowing that my sexual activities revolved around my pocket pussy. He continued to assert himself, seemingly unopposed.

Sara was required to keep her nails perfectly manicured at all times, which he paid for. Then he added the monthly Brazilian wax appointments, which he also paid for. Her appointment was always the day before he used her, even if he only wanted a blowjob.

Sara has always had beautiful long blonde hair, but that all changed one day, on another of Adrian's whims.

"I have decided that I want you to have platinum blonde hair from now on," Adrian told her one day, as she knelt before him, having just sucked him off.

"Please no Adrian, not that, please. I will do anything you want, as long as you don't make me dye my hair platinum," she begged him.

"You already do anything I want, Sara," he said laughing. "I want to get regular blowjobs from a platinum blonde."

Then he told her, "If you won't do it, I will buy your hubby an expensive platinum wig, and I will force him to suck me off once a week."

I shuddered when Sara told me this because I knew Adrian was deadly serious.

My wife had tried platinum hair in her early twenties, and I had seen pictures. I thought she looked amazing, but her family thought it made her look trashy. Her mum had actually used the words "bimbo" and "slut" to describe her.

It was one of the few things she ever argued about with her father, and finally after a few months of constant battling, Sara relented and returned her hair to its natural shade of blonde. They still occasionally brought it up at family gatherings, and Sara just didn't want to go there again. Adrian was adamant that she have platinum hair, but he finally agreed to some compromise.

"I will buy you an expensive platinum wig, made from real human hair," he offered. "You can wear it for me on date night. You can lighten your hair gradually, over a few months, until it is my desired shade of platinum. This will lessen the shock to your family as they will slowly get used to your new hair color."

Sara pushed back again, "Adrian, this gradual approach will only delay the inevitable. At some point I will look like a slut in my mum's eyes."

Adrian reacted angrily to her continued disobedience. "I have heard enough," he said forcefully. "My decision is final. If you ever mention your hair color again, I will send your mum a lewd picture of you, to confirm that you actually are a slut. Either the one of you on your knees, rimming me in your pink babydoll. Or maybe a picture of you getting ass-fucked, in your bridal lingerie and "SLUT" collar. That should convey my message to your mum."

Sara recoiled at this threat, and immediately backed down. Her family were extremely racist. Adrian had been in our lives for many years, but we never once introduced him to her side of the family. We couldn't even invite him to our wedding, because we knew it would be a major family issue, that he was black. They would have disowned her, had they seen those photos of my wife, accommodating his depraved sexual desires. In her bridal lingerie, for fuck's sake.

This was the first time Adrian had actually blackmailed either of us. The threat always loomed in the background, anytime he "asked" my wife to do something, but now it was a reality. Adrian owned us.

The blackmail threat changed the dynamic of our relationship with him. He became more assertive, and continued to push our boundaries. He bought Sara a beautiful platinum wig, made of real human hair. It was several inches longer than her real hair, and reached the top of her ass, when she stood straight up. He made her wear it, anytime they went out on a date. I would get an erection watching her put it on, knowing that it was reserved for his visual pleasure only.

Adrian also booked her an appointment to have her real hair colored, a couple of shades lighter. It looked really great, I had to admit. After two hair appointments, Sara's hair looked almost platinum to me already. However, when she held the wig next to her real hair, it was apparent she still had several shades to go, before she was his ideal color. Fuck, that wig was almost white!

A month later Sara was back at the hairdresser, having her hair lightened again. Then without any consultation, the stylist added matching hair extensions, to bring her hair the same length as the wig. My wife sat there passively, as the stylist told her that she knew exactly how Adrian wanted her to look. Sara also endured eyebrow bleaching that day.

After her hair and eyebrows were finished, the stylist took a picture, and texted it to Adrian for his approval.

Moments later, she told my wife, "You are good to go. Adrian is very happy."

When my wife left the salon, her eyebrows matched her hair color exactly, although she hadn't been involved in the decision. We were powerless to stop Adrian, and resigned ourself to the fact that he was going to slowly transform my wife, into his ideal fuck-toy.

Adrian continued to push Sara and I. He had us exactly where he wanted us, and started to be more demanding. He was very specific in his demands. For example, if he wanted anal sex, he would text her before noon. Then I was required to go to the pharmacy, and purchase an enema for my wife. I had to keep the receipt, and she would hand it to Adrian when he arrived to pick her up, so that he knew the enema had been purchased that day.

It seemed such a pointless act of control, and Sara never questioned him about it. However, Adrian told her one day, right after he had butt-fucked her.

"I want Chris to know every time I fuck your ass," he said cruelly. "In fact, more than that, I want him to be a willingly participant. I love that he runs down to Rite Aid to purchase an enema as soon as I text you. Fucking cuckold."

I hated the whole enema scenario. I was always on edge if she got a text before noon. Also, it was humiliating to walk to the pharmacy and buy an anal cleanse, just so that my wife would be ready for another man to sodomize her. Adrian thoroughly enjoyed my participation in getting Sara ready for his enjoyment.