“That’s none of your business,” stammered by wife. But I could see her looking with fascination at the big protrusion in John’s shorts. “But, but of course I am.”
“You like that dick, huh, check it out,” said John and he opened the flap in the front of his shorts so that his stiff cock came poking out. He really did have brass balls. I reached down the front of my pajamas and pulled on my cock guiltily as I watched John facing down my wife with his boner.
“Good lord, he’s pulled his johnson right out,” gasped Mrs. Jones. “Naughty boy, put your pee pee back into your shorts!”
“Yeah, that’s disgusting,” gulped my wife. But she couldn’t look away from John’s exposed erection.
“Go ahead, grab it, you slut, you know you want to,” leered John, thrusting his hips forward and practically poking his dick into my wife’s belly. Things were getting so hot at this point that I reached down and started stroking myself. I had joked a lot with my wife about her fucking John. Now that they were getting close, I found it insanely arousing and I fapped away urgently while I watched my wife slap John’s cock away with her hand.
“Ew! Gross,” she said.
“Yeah, I like it when you slap it. Do it again,” he coaxed.
“My husband is watching you know, he will come down here and kick your ass,” said my wife bravely.
But when she looked up at the window and saw me with my hands down the front of my pajamas her face fell slightly. John looked too and just laughed.
“Whoa, kinky shit going down out here,” laughed the punk rocker upstairs as he hung out his window watching.
“Ha ha, looks like hubby is getting off on this,” said John, suddenly emboldened. “Now, I’ve shown you mine, you show me yours. I know you ain’t got no panties on under there.” He lunged forward and yanked up the front of my wife’s t-shirt, exposing her dark brown bush for a moment before she yelped and pushed his hand away.
Laura went to punch John, but he grabbed her by the wrists and they struggled there in the courtyard for a moment, wrestling. But John was much stronger and he quickly pinned my wife, with her hands above her head, up against the wall. Their blood was up and both of them were panting, eyes shining. Her t-shirt was so short that it rose up when her arms were above her head to expose her pussy. I had to slow down my masturbation to keep from coming too quickly. I did feel a bit guilty. A better husband would have run down to rescue his wife. But I suspected that this is what she wanted deep down. After all, why didn’t she at least throw a robe on before heading down there. She was deliberately taunting John with her body.
“Oh, dear, things are getting out of hand,” bemoaned Mrs. Jones. But she showed no sign of withdrawing from her window. She was there to watch the show.
“Let go of me you fucker,” spat my wife, livid with anger.
“Aw no, missy, you punched me in the face once already, not gonna let that happen again,” growled John. Then his pushed his stiff cock between my wife’s legs. “I’m gonna give you what you came down here for. While your husband watches, too.”
Laura tried to struggle free, but John had her pinned tight as he slid his cock in and out between her thighs. After a few thrusts, her hips started responding and she tilted her pelvis forward to receive him. He couldn’t be entering her from that angle. His shaft was probably sliding along her labia. I paused again and tried to catch my breathe as I watched this guy violating my wife.
“Yeah, you like that,” grunted John.
“NO I don’t, get that disgusting prick away from me,” moaned my wife, but I could hear the lack of conviction in her voice.
“You’re wet as hell, I can feel it,” he laughed triumphantly. “You want that dick inside you.”
“No I don’t, you are a filthy pig.” But she was grinding her pelvis back and forth onto John’s dick while she said that.
“This is fucking hot, dude!” called the punk rocker. “I can fap to this.”
“Oh my, this is really terribly improper you two,” called poor Mrs. Jones, but even the old woman’s glasses were getting steamed up.
“Turn to face the wall, let me put it in from behind,” John coaxed my wife.
“Never!” she cried and she tried to suddenly squirm free again. She put up a pretty good fight this time, but after a decent struggle, John managed to pin her hands to the wall with her ass facing him and he crouched behind her struggling to get his cock inside her from behind.
“Arch your back a little,” he groaned. Laura moaned and did as he suggested and then she gasped loudly as John finally managed to get his thing inside her.
“Oh god, oh god, help me, help Jimmy,” she cried out. “He’s inside me, oh god.”
“James, get down here and protect your wife for Lord’s sake,” gasped Mrs. Jones indignantly, putting her hand to her chest.
“But, but,” I cried, nearly on the verge of climax.
“Don’t worry, Mrs.Jones, she wants this,” said John, quickly releasing my wife’s hands and grabbing her by the hips as he sank his meat into repeatedly. Laura stood there, receiving his cock, her hands against the wall, panting with passion.
“No I don’t want this,” said my wife, but she kept her back arched so that he could enter her easily. “Jimmy, come down here and stop him!”
“Oh, shit,” I grumbled, and I left off jerking myself so that I could pretend to be the knight in shining armor when we all knew that this is what we all wanted. Fuck, what a strange situation.
When I got down to the courtyard, John was still working my wife from behind and she was moaning with pleasure, but cursing him the whole time.
“Oh, you think you are tough, huh, well now my husband is here,” said Laura as John gripped her by the hips and pumped away on her.
“Yeah, I saw him fapping while he watched,” crowed John. “He’s not gonna do shit!”
“Don’t take that, man, hit him!” called the punker.
“Yes, he certainly deserves a good smack, James,” insisted Mrs. Jones.
Laura looked at me expectantly, her eyes bright with passion as John carried on fucking her.
“I mean, obviously you could have wriggled free by now,” I said throwing my hands up in exasperation.
“No I could NOT, he’s forcing ME,” lied my wife loudly, her pelvis moving perfectly in time with John’s thrusts ash eh fucked her from behind. “He’s a filthy scum who is ruining my reputation with the entire building.”
It suddenly dawned on me just how scandalous this whole twisted scene was. We really were going to be the laughing stock of the entire building soon. “Oh shit,” I sighed and I stepped in to shove John back off of my wife roughly. “Sorry there, Romeo, that’s MY wife you’re trying to impregnate there.”
“Fuck man, you know she wants it!” complained John.
“No I don’t you pig! You took advantage of me,” insisted my wife. She spun around and slapped John’s face as hard as she could. It really made a loud slap and I winced when I saw the white handprint on his cheek.
“Oh, you bitch!” he called and he lunged forward to grab my wife. But she was giggling now and she darted inside with John hot on her trail.
“Go help your wife, don’t make her fend for herself,” scolded Mrs. Jones.
“Dammit,” I cursed under my breath, as I followed my wife and her grudge fuck lover inside. I found them up on the second floor. John had captured my wife in his arms and he was trying to get her inside his apartment, but Laura was kicking and screaming, but also laughing a little bit too. She even giggled when he managed to get a stray finger into her cunt.
“Man, help me get her inside, and I will take care of her,” John begged me as he struggled with my wife in his arms.
“Jimmy, don’t you dare,” my wife gasped indignantly.
“Laura, uh, what do you WANT me to do?” I asked in confusion. I suspected that my wife was enjoying her combative love affair, I certainly was.
“Um, I think I have to fight my own battles here, actually,” said my wife as she paused her struggles for a moment. “Maybe go wait in our apartment and I will be there in a few minutes once I kick this bastard in the balls and teach him what he gets for besmirching my honor.”
John of course took advantage of the temporary lull in combat to drag my wife over the threshold into his apartment. I could hear her laughing in spite of herself as she cursed him and he got the door slammed behind them. My cock was standing stiffly at attention and I rushed inside to our bedroom to see if I could hear what happened.
Sure enough, a few minutes later, John’s bed started tapping it’s familiar staccato against our wall and I pulled my pajamas off so I could jerk off freely while I listened. Soon my wife was groaning and crying out. Half of her cries were insults and he grunted in pain a few times but once I heard her characteristic whimper as she came, I blew my wad right against the wall. It was very satisfying.
My wife appeared in our bedroom completely naked after a few minutes, she went into the closet and put on her bathrobe as though nothing had happened.
“Well I showed HIM who’s boss,” she said with a dreamy, post orgasm smile.
“Jeez, did you walk down the hall naked like that?” I asked with a laugh.
“Um, yeah, I guess I lost my shirt in the struggle somehow,” she said with a shrug. My wife noticed my cum on the wall and she made a face. “Christ honey, did you spooge on the wall in here?”
“Yeah, I was listening while John fucked the shit out of you. When I heard you cum, it pushed me over the edge,” I admitted.
My wife made a strange face, as though she were struggling with something internally. “I uh, don’t know what you are talking about. I didn’t let him fuck me. I, uh, kicked him right in the nads,” lied Laura.
“Laura, look it’s fine. I heard everything, and I got off on it, too,” I said taking my wife in my arms. “It was pretty kinky to hear my wife grudge fuck another guy.”
“I don’t know what you THINK you heard, but I assure you I would never allow that dog’s prick inside me,” said my wife frostily.
“Wow, this is how you want to play it, huh?” I asked, scratching my head. “Ok, then.”
“And um, he said, that I had to come over tomorrow and suck his penis in front of you,” blurted Laura quickly. “But I’m definitely not doing that. I will show him, I will bite his little prick right off if he tries to make me.”
“Oh, of course,” I said, patting her on the shoulder. “You are a she-devil. He should know better than to mess around with you.” Then I paused for a moment. “So, uh, what time tomorrow then?”
“Oh, around 8pm,” said my wife, trying to sound casual. Then she dashed off the bathroom to clean up, singing a pop song about milkshakes in the yard. She hadn’t seemed so girlish in a long time and I tried not to worry about the rumour mill that was certainly churning in all the apartments around us.