Anna Succumbs – Again and Again

It’s hard to describe how I felt, the first time I saw it.

Granted, my inhibitions had already been lowered. My husband had been pushing me to behave naughtily, fueling my arousal with cocktails and, insanely, his own desire to take me right there in our pool. Still, regardless of the wild afternoon I had experienced, the sight of Bob’s gigantic penis awakened something in me, something I had subconsciously spent most of my life repressing.

My husband is partially to blame for my newfound sexual wildness, although I suppose maybe ‘blame’ isn’t the right word. Perhaps ‘credit’, is more apt. Steve had always been proud of me, lovingly building my sexual confidence slowly over our years together. He loved to encourage me to dress provocatively, to show off my curves. Slowly my walls came down, and my sexual confidence grew. I will always love the man for his pride in me, for his twisted and delightful perversions. It’s hard not to feel guilty sometimes, though. As his wife maybe I should have cautioned him more, pushed back even more than I already did. After all, those very perversions led us to where we are now, and our marriage would never be the same. Steve was now living in a reality where his wife was taking another man to bed regularly, a man who was infinitely more sexually equipped than he. As cruel as it was to admit, and despite my immense love for my husband, his penis simply had no way of competing with Bobs.

When I first saw it, that day in the pool, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

Steve and I rarely watched porn together. I could count our drunken viewings on one hand, and even those films were rather conservative and without much graphic detail. I had heard of certain women sometimes being labeled “size queens”, a cartoonish description for a woman who lusted after large men, and I never quite understood it. It was admittedly naive of me, but I always assumed most men were roughly the same size. I would soon learn how wrong I was, however, and as part of that education I would develop my own strong desire for a sizable man.

It didn’t take long for my outlook to shift. As soon as I laid my eyes on Bobs penis, it all changed for me. He was so much bigger than my husband. It was like I was seeing peak masculinity, a beautiful, towering appendage that I couldn’t peel my eyes away from. It made me question everything i knew about sex, about men, all in an instant.

I still blush to think about how I reacted. Simply put, it stunned me. It was startlingly long, and incredibly thick, visually spectacular in a way that looked nothing like my husbands package. At the base of his shaft there was a massive pair of testicles. In my shock, I somehow encouraged Bob to play with himself, inflamed by the taboo knowledge that he was aroused by the sight of me. Me, an otherwise demure housewife, had somehow caused that incredible cock to become excited.

Weeks went by and try as I might, I couldn’t get the image of it out of my mind. I began to feel guilty, telling myself that a married woman shouldn’t behave in such a way. I tried to manage my thoughts, and behave as the prim and proper housewife, and teacher, that I had been for so long. It wasn’t working, and whenever I closed my eyes I saw his weight, his size, vivid in my memory. While it was true that Bob was a tall, muscular, and somewhat handsome man, for whatever reason all my fantasies gravitated solely around his manhood. I had never found him particularly desirable, not until I saw him in the nude anyway. After all, Bob was a bit jovial, a tad goofy, and I preferred my men somewhat more reserved. Steve, for example, was much more stoic. My husband was so stoic, in fact, that my he seemed dangerously confident in prodding my flirtations with our neighbor. He continued to encourage me to tease him, to toy with the bullishly hung man next door. I quickly learned that it turned him on, somehow, the pervert in him excited by my teasing behavior. Admittedly, it quickly began arousing me as well, perhaps because it was such a liberating departure from normality. Our sex had become more explosive, more teasing. Shamefully, I would often fantasize that it was Bob who was taking me, and when I would admit as much to my husband, he would cum violently with shameful lust in his eyes.

At the same time that I was struggling with my own internal battle, and the impossible encouragement of my husband, Bob weakened my defenses from the outside. He started to become more bold with me, suddenly confident in playing with my sexuality. He had quickly caught on to Steve’s willingness to expose me, to show me off, and he capitalized on it, slowly seducing me over time.

It was soon thereafter when Steve naively sent me over to Bob’s house, supposedly with the intent to help him with a casserole, though I knew my husband was perversely excited by the idea of me being alone with him. Bob obviously had no interest whatsoever in the food, and almost immediately pulled me into his living room. It was there that we hooked up for the first time, our attraction building to a breaking point. Bob dropped his shorts the second he got me on his couch. His huge cock bobbed upwards, large, sexy, and dangerous.

“I know you want to see it.” He said, confidently.

He was right of course. He surely knew, from the look in my eye that day at the pool, that I had never seen one as big as his. I blushed, face going red and panties immediately dampening at the sight of his beautiful penis.

“I want you to play with it.” His voice was calm, deliberate, and in control.

The last vestiges of my wife-hood were in tatters, my sexual defenses unraveling over the last few weeks of teasing. Still, my rational mind attempted to save my sanctity, voice soft and nervous, “My husband-”

“Your husband is a cuckold in waiting, Anna. Why do you think he sent you over here?” Bob replied, voice deep and honest. It was a bit startling to hear him drop his normally lighthearted demeanor, and adopt a dominant tone of voice. It confused me, but crazily, it also turned me on. He added, “Steve is a smart man, damn well smart enough to know he can’t give you what I can.” He chuckled, adding, “I saw his little dick in the pool.”

I blushed, which caused him to smile. He grabbed his beautiful cock with his hand, tugging at his immense length and drawing my attention even further to it. Bob added, “I think all three of us know you deserve a bit more than that.”

Arousal and embarrassment both swept across my face, guilt swelling from the inexplicable excitement I felt. His comparison to my husband’s smaller penis dampened my womanhood in a strangely taboo way. My husband wasn’t small, not technically, but he certainly was in comparison to what I was now looking at. Bob gently grabbed my hand, and to my horror, I melted. I immediately gave into my womanly desire to touch him, to my need to feel his supremely masculine cock in my hands.

It was hot to the touch, and hard as steel, power coursing off every inch of his member. I tried to encircle my hand around his impressive girth, but my index finger wasn’t even close to my thumb. It was fascinating to see my delicate hand contrasting so starkly against the incredible masculinity of his organ. I began to stoke up and down his length immediately, out of my mind with arousal over the surreal sight of me exploring him. His huge balls began to flop up and down, testicles smacking against and peeling perversely from the leather seat of his couch cushion, I had to feel them, to caress them, and began doing so with my free hand. They too were hot, heavy, and undoubtedly boiling with his essence.

“Fuck Bob.” I bit down on my lip, instinct taking over. “You’re cock is so sexy.” I heard myself admit, not quite in control of my thoughts, or my emotions, body driven by lust. This was completely foreign territory for me, but I loved every moment of it.

It was then that we kissed for the first time, a passionate, taboo, extramarital kiss. Bob eventually peeling the lace down my breasts, taking my large tits in his hands, spurring me even further to the brink. We stayed that way, exploring one another in complete arousal. Me, a married woman, letting this large man have his way with my tits. Still, despite the intensity in the room, somehow I managed to keep our physicality on second base, my rational mind barely fighting off his advances to take me up to his bedroom. My husband admitted later that he had watched much of it, sneaking over and peering through the window like a pervert. His unfathomable acceptance only spurring my need, propelling my desire closer and closer to realization.

Throughout the following week, I couldn’t get Bob’s penis out of my mind. I thought about it all day long, absentmindedly performing my lectures with lust controlling my brain. I was desperate to see it again, to continue exploring him, to let him continue to explore me. When I got home, I immediately and shamefully went next door, red faced and embarrassed when he opened it, smiling. Minutes later I was back on his couch, only now I leaned down and lustfully wrapped my mouth around his penis.

I rarely went down on Steve, I simply never felt the desire too. That wasn’t at all the case with Bob, however. I was quickly becoming intoxicated by his manhood, it’s incredible presence arousing me in a scary way. I planted kisses up and down his thick member, running my tongue across his big balls, trying to take as much of him in my mouth as I could manage. My actions became quickly depraved, enamored by the raw, masculine, pillar of testosterone against my lips.

“Suck that big cock.” Bob would taunt, slapping his hand across my bare ass as I happily did.

I would even have to take the occasional break, to pump him with my hands in order to allow my jaw some needed recovery time. Perversely, I even enjoyed slapping his cock into my face, somehow loving the submissive feeling of something so masculine against my cheeks. In the middle of one of my frenzies, I received a fateful text from my husband, curious as to my whereabouts.

‘This is what you get for opening Pandora’s box.’ I thought, as I texted him a brief video of me going down on our neighbor. I think a small part of me wanted for Steve to stop me, for him to snap out of his perverted trance and realize his wife was succumbing to another man, for the sight of Bob’s huge cock to strike fear into the heart of him, and make my husband take back control of me. Incredibly, it did nothing of the sort, and only served to further push Steve off the edge, and towards his inevitable destiny as a cuckold. I’ll never forget the sight of him when I finally returned home. Steve’s pants were around his ankles, and his shirt was covered in his own cum, having just masturbated to that very video of me sucking Bob’s big cock. I still blush when I think about it.

Given the progression of my relationship with Bob, and my husbands misguided acceptance of it, it’s no surprise that Bob and I soon found ourselves in bed together.

My poor, loving husband, spent much of that day watching me with fascinated, wide eyes, as I frolicked nude with Bob in our pool. Steve’s delightful perversion, to push me to open up, to get in touch with the raw sexuality inside me, was about to climax, literally and figuratively, with another man inside me.

“Play with that cock baby.” Bob would tease, keeping his voice low, whispering to me as I pumped his big shaft under the water. In all my years on the planet, my arousal had never been even close to as heightened as it was that day at our pool. It was simply taboo, playing with another naked man while my husband looked on in perverted wonder.

As shameful as it is to admit, I felt immense relief when I finally noticed Steve asleep on the patio chair. Nothing was going to stop me from taking Bob to bed on that night, and my husband’s slumber allowed me and my new lover our privacy.

It was only a few short minutes until Bob and I escaped upstairs. I was already naked, and I was soon laying submissively upon his bed. My legs were spread for him, and I was soaking wet, desperate for whatever he was about to give me. I smiled in blushing absurdity, not quite believing that this was my reality. A few short months ago I was a completely reserved housewife, unwilling to even wear a bikini in front of other men. Now here I was, naked in my neighbor’s bed, wickedly excited to allow a well hung man to have his way with me.

It might sound strange, but the first thoughts that exploded across my mind as Bob stretched me, were of pity. Not pity for my husband, who wanted this for me, but pity for other women. Pity for women in otherwise great marriages, with loving husbands. Women who had been with the same man for most of their life, pity for women who might never get to experience a truly large penis.

It was if an itch was finally being scratched, a deep, profound, sexual itch, an itch that I never even knew I had. It was a divine experience, almost out of body, his thick cock was stretching my walls in a way that was almost indescribable. As he fucked me with his beautiful penis, we kissed, lips smacking together in passion as sparks flew from the taboo realization of our mating. My neurons were firing in my brain, thoughts wild and primal. That moment in time came with a realization. A harsh, harrowing realization, that a man with a very large cock could make me feel like a woman in ways my husband couldn’t.

I gasped for air, and my eyes going wide as the endorphins rushed to my brain. The feeling of fullness inside me was something beyond compare. His cock somehow both stretched me apart, and made me whole. The pleasure bursting from my loins caused goosebumps to fire across my body, skin electric with lust. I moaned, clutching into Bob’s muscled back. I was being stuffed by a real man, and there was simply nothing like it.

“Fuck me!” I screamed, delirious.

He pumped in and out of me, his cock stretching my pussy in unforgiving fashion, taking what was so rightly his.

He grunted. “That’s it Anna. Give it up for me. Give me all of that married pussy.” Bob teased, clearly loving his role of hung man conquering a married woman. He kissed across my breasts, and neck, my pale nipples turning to diamond as he pleasured me better than my husband ever had.

I had never felt anything even remotely close to what Bob was giving me. The way his large shaft pumped so deeply into me, stretching my walls out in ways unfamiliar, causing my nerve endings to fire off in taboo sensation as a bigger man stretched me full. I came hard, pleasure so consuming that my teeth began to chatter, legs shaking as my toes curled forward in orgasmic release. I soaked his plunging cock with my cream, violently exploding all over his engorgement as I screamed and spasmed.

“Ohhh!!! You got meee! Oh Bob!!! You got meee! You fucking- got meee!!!”

It was the first of many orgasms I would have that night. Real, powerful, vaginal orgasms, orgasms so strong that they altered my entire perspective on sexual satisfaction.

Bob came several times on that first evening as well. Between sessions we would lay there for a moment, kissing passionately, naughtily, both basking in the taboo realization that we were in the midst of thoroughly cuckolding my husband. Minutes of recovery would pass, and we would then continue to mate, Bob somehow having better stamina than Steve despite being a much older man. I loved every second with him, his beautiful cock taking me to sexual heights that I never knew possible. Our bodies were sweaty, our kisses passionate, our lust undeniable. Bob was changing my marriage with every thrust of his incredible appendage, with every stretch of my pussy I became more submissive to him, more sexually his. It was simply nature at work, as cruel as that was to admit.

I would later learn that Steve, my poor, loving husband, had watched me from our bedroom window, even listening in on my depraved words as fate deemed him a cuckold. He admitted that it was difficult for him, profoundly so, to see me react to another man in such a way. However, he also shamefully admitted that it was beyond arousing. I will never forget his embarrassed eyes as he told me that he masturbated as he watched Bob fuck me.

Respect is perhaps the most crucial element of any marriage, and once its gone, it’s nearly impossible to get back. I actually worried, that night, and throughout the next few days, that I would begin looking at Steve with less of it. After all, he had willingly stepped back and allowed a sexually superior man to seduce and fuck me. I definitely began seeing my husband in a more perverted, more sexually inadequate role. It’s not that Steve couldn’t satisfy me in the bedroom, he had ably performed his duties as a husband in our years together, and was technically of average endowment. It was the simple fact that I had now experienced something undeniable, and the sexual experience that Bob was able to give me dwarfed my husband on even his best day.

I quickly, and thankfully, learned to separate bedroom respect, from general respect. Steve’s penis size was not in his control, however his assertive nature, his confidence, and his other positive attributes all were. I loved the man, completely. I couldn’t hold his perverted desires against him, especially because I had so willingly embraced them, and so willingly benefited from them. I eventually began to realize that there was actually something brave about Steve being able to break societal constructs, machismo bravado, and pursue an unmentionable fantasy to see his wife satisfied by a bigger man. Besides, after some research, I realized that what we were now engaging in was a popular fantasy for many married couples. Over time, all three of us became more comfortable in our new dynamic, Steve becoming more willingly submissive to my needs in the bedroom, naturally recognizing that he had no hope of competing with what Bob was giving me.

He even fell into the delightfully depraved habit of watching us, sometimes Bob would take me right on our pool deck, his huge cock as hard as steel, clearly inflamed by his exploding ego. It had to be satisfying, on a primal level, to satisfy a married woman right in front of her lesser equipped husband. It was profoundly arousing for me, as well, to look into the lust filled eyes of my husband as he stared slack jawed, watching as Bob took his wife’s pussy right in front of him. Sometimes Bob would take me up to his room, and Steve would watch the powerful intercourse from across the yard. There were even times when Bob would close his curtains, my poor husband only able to listen to my moans of satisfaction, as he waited for me in cuckolded angst.

As cruel as it is to admit, those were my favorite sessions with Bob. It was during those intimate moments alone with my lover, that we were free to express our honesty. I loved his demeanor when we fucked, his otherwise goofy personality becoming naturally dominant whenever he was inside me.

“You love this big cock, don’t you Anna.” Bob would tease, stuffing me full, satisfying me in that way I was now completely addicted too.

“I do Bobby. Fuck me hard.” We would kiss each other passionately, and he would continue to tease me, to humiliate my husband in a shamefully perverse way that turned me on as well. Taunting as he fucked me while my husband waited in aroused agony.

“Tell me what I want to hear baby.” He would demand, causing me to submit immediately, legs wrapping around his back, his large balls flopping into my ass cheeks, the smacking sensation of his masculine testicles yet another physical touch of his that I had grown to love.

I would whisper into his ear, hard truths that turned us both on in horrible ways. “You fuck me so much better than my husband.”