My wife and I were married for four years when we discussed swinging. Actually, she was the first to bring it up. Initially I was a shocked, but also aroused at seeing a different side to her sexuality. We placed a few ads for couples, but nothing ever really came of it. We were young– she in her mid 20s and I in my early 30s. Most couples seem to graduate to swinging a little later in life, or so it seemed.
Through this exploration, we decided that we would look for another man to join us in a threesome. This seemed logistically much more attainable. We also discussed at length the realities associated with marriage, that it was OK to have little crushes, to be flirtatious, and so on– as long as there were no secrets. She went on to share that she had a crush on one of our coworkers (we both worked for the same company). His name was Ron, a smooth-talking, black, married man. It seemed harmless enough, since he was married. They had kissed once or twice in his car after a post-work happy hour outing that I skipped, but that was as far as anything had gone. He certainly had been pushing things to go further, but she kept fending him off, reveling in his attention. It made my wife feel and act sexier. We derived a lot of mileage from exploring the fantasy during sex. Of course, in our talks, the topic of cock size would come up periodically, and I discovered she was more into size than I had imagined. I asked if she though Ron would be quite large. She coyly answered that he might just be average, as she had already brought up the topic with him, and he answered that not all black men had huge cocks. Again, I was shocked that she had even had a discussion like that with him.
We still were seeking another man or a couple. It was turning into a huge fantasy for me, and I found myself pushing her more and more. Generally she was more reserved about this, feeling reluctant to have sex with a total stranger. Of course there were other issues to consider in inviting someone we knew– like having to see them on an ongoing basis. Eventually this was turning into almost an obsession for me. I was at the point where I had given her permission to have sex with anyone she wanted– as long as she told me about it. She said she would only follow through if I was present. It seemed like a fair enough situation, since the possibility of something occurring was just as intense as the reality– or so it seemed.
One day I was at the gym. As I was returning to my locker after my shower in the corner, my locker was blocked by a bulky naked black man who had his back to me. When I said “excuse me,” he turned around and I noticed it was Ron, who I never had seen there before. With a big grin he held out his hand to shake it, saying that he had not idea that I worked out there. As I moved my shampoo to my left hand to shake with him, my towel dropped. I was standing face to face with the man my wife had a crush on. His cock looked completely soft and limp, and it was already longer and thicker than my cock ever was at full attention. To make matters worse, I was showering after a post-“rush hour” cardio workout. There hadn’t been much hot water, and the blood supply hadn’t really returned to the rest of my body after such intense excercise. And, well, I am more of a “grower than a shower” anyway. He just wouldn’t let go of my hand as he kept talking as his cock was very loosely dangling. He was asking about my wife, and I think I caught him glancing down at my cock, and of course he caught me glancing at his. The talk of my wife threw things into a tailspin, as I envisioned his massive cock inside her. My cock started to get half hard, which was even more humiliating. I pulled my hand away, and tried to recover with as much politeness as possible. I quickly changed and was out of there.
I had hoped the locker room scene would not resurface. It was embarrassing bumping into Ron at work, but I was usually able to avoid him. A few days later, my wife mentioned that she heard I ran into Ron in the locker room. She asked if I had seen him naked. I hesitated, and she said that she knew I had. She then asked if he was big. I paused again, and without saying a word, she knew.
Things quieted down for a few days, then one day my wife wanted to talk to me. She was quite upset. She told me that Ron was growing more and more pushy, that he was talking things too far. She told me that she either needed to just get it over and sleep with him, or she needed to end things right now. She said she was inclined to just end things, since he was growing more disrespectful of her feelings. She wanted to speak to him in person, but she was worried that she might “do something” if she came over and was alone with him. She wanted to know my opinion.
I had no idea what to say. I was starting to dislike the guy, and the thought of them having sex was becoming less and less of a turn on as it was nearing the possibility of becoming reality. She said he was coming over that Thursday evening, while I was away at a work function. She told me she only wanted to talk to him. This seemed fair enough. But she left the door open that if he started something, she had no idea where it might lead.
Thursday arrived, and I was obsessed with what might happen. I was thoroughly distracted during the work dinner. I hadn’t heard a word from my wife– no calls, no text messages, nothing. My heart was racing as I drove home. When I entered the house, everything was quiet. I called out her name, and heard her from the bedroom. My heart was pounding as I entered the room. She was naked, on the bed. One used condom was leaking cum onto the floor, and my wife was lying next to a huge wet spot on the bed. She had a sleepy, faraway look in her eyes. The room reeked of sex.
“Come here,” she said, as I undressed, already hard. She guided my in to her stretched, well-used pussy. “I guess you already know what happened,* she said. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”