My Husband Was That Way Too

I was crying myself to sleep as my husband Chuck snored loudly beside me. For what seemed the thousandth time I had gone over the same ugly story that began when I got married six months ago. I always ended up with the same conclusion. Actually not a conclusion but a question: Was my husband gay?

I had met Chuck in college where we began dating in our senior year. I fell in love with him almost from the first date because he was so sweet and loving, always putting me first in everything.

I did not engage in casual sex in college. In fact I didn’t engage in sex at all except for two occasions when I drank too much and found myself naked in the back seat of a car getting my brains fucked out. After those two experiences I was very careful about how much I drank. Obviously I had a problem keeping my legs together when I was drunk. Several other girls in Sigma Kappa had the same problem.

When Chuck proposed to me he confessed to having had an affair before he met me and then he asked me about my sexual experience. I told him about what had happened to me. He asked me about it several times and wanted to hear all the details. I was embarrassed but I told him most of what happened – not all.

After we got married, sex was okay for a while but then it tapered off. Why? That was when I started crying myself to sleep night after night.

Tonight after I reviewed the whole thing once again I finally made a decision I had avoided as long as I could. I was gonna check him out. The moment I made that decision my crying stopped and I went to sleep.

The next day after he went to work I sat down at his desk and turned on his computer. Chuck was always on the computer. The guys at work called him “Computer Chuck” because he could tame any computer.

I felt like I was betraying him by doing this but I wanted to check out his e-mail. If he were gay there might be something there. I needed a password. How can I find out what it is?

I knew two passwords he had picked so maybe they would give me a clue. We had a debit card and he had picked “Daisy89.” We had a lockbox in the closet and the password was “Lassie90.”

Lassie was the name of a dog in an old movie and Daisy was the name of the comic strip dog belonging to Blondie and Dagwood. Chuck was born in 1989 and I was born in 1990. Okay I’m looking for a dog’s name followed by 89 or 90 – maybe!

I got out an old photo album from his childhood. Looking through it I found a picture of him with a dog and under the picture was written, “Chuck and Buddy.”

I went back to his computer and tried “Buddy89” and BINGO! The computer opened. I went on line and checked his e-mail. Nothing. Well, I thought, no boyfriends. Then I keyed the “History” button and I got a ton of stuff from different websites.

The most frequently visited site was one with pornographic stories. There were hundreds of hits on a female author named Lynn and her stories about wives who cuckolded their husbands. My God! Was my husband turned on by stories about wives who fucked other men? I needed help.

Living next door to us was an older woman, about sixty, with whom I had talked on numerous occasions. She was a widow. Recently she noticed I was upset and asked if anything was bothering me.

Late that afternoon I saw her in her back yard and went over.

“Hi Lydia,” I said. “Yesterday you asked if something was bothering me. I DO have a problem. Come over to my place. I need to ask you about something.”

We sat on the patio behind our house and I offered her a drink. She asked for a Macallan 12 – my favorite single malt. When we got settled I began my tale of woe. I told her that I had discovered pornography on my husband’s computer.

“What kind of pornography?” Lydia asked.

“Stories about wives who are unfaithful to their husbands,” I replied.

“Any stories about husbands watching their wives having sex with other men?” Lydia asked.

“Oh yes,” I said. “In very great detail!”

“Has your husband ever asked you about the sex that you had with other guys before you got married?”

“Let me tell you about something that happened to me in college,” I said.

I recounted in detail what had happened and then I told her about Chuck questioning me again and again about those two episodes. She nodded knowingly as I talked.

“Did he fuck you after you told him about your college experiences?”

I told her that he had always made love afterward. I said I thought at the time he was trying to reassure me of his love.

When I finished she looked off into space silently, almost sadly, before replying.

“My husband was that way too,” she said softly.

“That way? What way?” I asked.

She reached over and put her hand on my arm tenderly as she spoke.

“You see Grace, some men are turned on by the fantasy of watching the woman they love having sex with another man. It has to be a common fantasy because it’s on every porn site. I’m sure wives with husbands who are that way don’t want to talk about it – I certainly NEVER talked about my husband.”

I sat there numb. It fit everything I knew about Chuck. I remembered the great sex we had after I explained the details of those two drunken experiences. Telling him about fucking those two guys had turned him on! Then I suddenly got scared.

“Lydia did you fuck other guys for Bob to watch?” I asked fearfully.

“Oh no,” she said with a chuckle, almost a loving chuckle. “I read stuff on porn sites and made up stories to tell him. I’d go to a movie and come home and tell him I’d been to a bar and picked up a stud and fucked him in his car. I had a firm rule: Hubby NEVER got to watch”

“Oh my God,” I said. “And you did this for years?”

“I did it for thirty years,” Lydia said. “One story would last two or three months. Bob kept trying to persuade me to let him watch but of course I always told him he couldn’t.”

“What if Chuck insists on watching?” I asked.

“I did a lot of reading about these guys,” Lydia said. “They are NOT the dominant kind of guy. You can easily take charge of their sex lives.”

“How do I do that?” I asked.

“Just whisper a dirty story in his ear Grace and he’ll start playin with his peter. You can control him as long as you have juicy stories to tell him. I’ll help you. It’ll be fun to hear how you’re doing.”

“But how do I get started?” I asked.

“That’s easy. It’s called the BIG CONFESSION.”

“So tell me exactly,” I said.

“When you told him about those two guys you fucked when you were drunk did you tell him you had orgasms?”

“Of course not!” I said angrily.

“But you DID have orgasms didn’t you?”

This is embarrassing, I thought – very embarrassing. I don’t want to tell her the truth but I guess I have to.

“Well … ah … I tried to forget about that. I was very drunk and … well … you know.”

“Were they good orgasms?”

“Well … you see … ”

I couldn’t forget those orgasms because ever since then when I used my vibrator I fantasized about them. Getting drunk with a strange guy, getting horny, and then getting fucked like a whore was my favorite vibrator fantasy.

“Tell me Grace! Were they big orgasms?” Lydia said insistently.

Better tell her, I thought.

“Yeah they were very big orgasms. Multiple orgasms – one after another. Better than anything I’ve ever had with Chuck. But I was very drunk and … well … I just couldn’t help it – my pelvis just exploded.”

“There’s your big confession. Some night after you go to bed tell him you have a confession to make and when he asks you what it is you tell him that you had big orgasms with those two guys but never told him about it because you were so ashamed. See what his reaction is. If he gets sexually aroused then he wants to be your cuckold.”

“Okay. I’ll try it out tonight,” I said.

That night I made sure that Chuck had plenty to drink and after we went to bed I hit him with my “big confession.” Lydia was right! Chuck kept asking me for more details and I told him the story about how horny I got when I was drunk. Chuck got a hard on and began masturbating. He just seemed to lose control and have no shame as he pounded his peter with his balls slapping him in the ass.

After he pumped a load of semen up on his belly I kept talking and he got hard again. I pulled him on top of me and Chuck gave me a really good fuck – rougher than usual but I still had an orgasm.

The next afternoon Lydia came over with a chilled bottle of chardonnay and we sat on the patio and I told her the whole story.

“It sounds like you got him hooked,” Lydia said. “Now you gotta find out what he wants to hear. Maybe he wants the stud to be hairy, or muscular, or uncircumcised, or really hung, or extra rough with you … or … well, maybe even a black guy.”

Black guys! Shit! I remembered a gal named Hannah Roberts in Sigma Kappa talking about the size of black cocks she’d sucked.

“What you want to do is figure out the fantasy he has in his head using the questions he asks you. Then recreate that fantasy for him with imaginary guys after the two college guys don’t get him horny enough. Cuckolds need to hear new stuff regularly.”

I’d been worrying about Chuck and feeling a little bit guilty deceiving him. I wondered if Lydia had felt that way with her husband. I asked her.

“Of course I did Grace! At first that is, but not after I thought the whole thing through. Wives do things to sexually excite their husbands: make their tits bigger, shave their pubic hair, walk around the house naked, and some things even crazier than that. Making up stories that turn on their husbands is just another way to do what wives are supposed to do – keep hubby horny.”

“I guess you’re right.” I said, feeling a little better. “But it’s still kinda make-believe.”

“All sex is ninety percent make-believe honey. But it brings two people in love together and that’s what counts.”

“How long will these two guys last?” I asked.

“Hard to say,” Lydia said. “He’ll probably keep coming back to them but he may need someone else after a couple of months or so.”

“Then what do I do?”

“You make up a story Grace. Just make up a story. Use something that you know turns him on. When you’re talking about those guys what seems to turn him on the most?”

I thought about her question and remembered something that made him tremble. It was when I talked about getting so drunk and so horny that I couldn’t say no and then I got fucked like a whore.

“Turning into a whore when I got drunk. That really turned him on.”

“Okay keep using variations on that story and when he needs something else have another variation of the story ready – same story with different guys.”

“For instance?”

“Do what I did. Tell him some night that you’re gonna dress up like a whore and visit a bar. There’s a bar called “Jimmy’s” south of town next to a strip club. He’ll know about it. You just go to a movie but when you get back tell him you went to Jimmy’s and met a guy who had been watching naked girls all evening. Then you got drunk, got horny, and went out to his car and got fucked.”

“Will he believe me,” I asked.

“He’ll believe you Grace because he WANTS to believe you.”

Well, that story will be easy to tell, I thought. It’s my vibrator fantasy: getting drunk, getting horny, and then getting laid. Like with those two guys in college.

I followed her advice. The story about the two guys worked great but a couple of months later Chuck seemed to slow down a bit and I used Lydia’s story about going to Jimmy’s Bar one night when he was away on a business trip. My God! Chuck fucked me like a satyr. He wanted to hear about it over and over in every detail.

This was still hard to understand. Chuck loved me – I was sure of that. Yet he wanted to hear about me fucking other guys. Jesus! Suddenly the thought hit me like a truck! I could fuck any guy I wanted and TELL him about it and it would turn him on. I needed to talk to Lydia about that. The next day I went over to see her.

When I told her what I had been thinking she started to giggle.

“You know what they say about cuckolds. When you’re unfaithful they don’t get mad, they get horny,” she said and burst out laughing.

I laughed with her. It WAS funny but it was true. I could fuck anybody I wanted to and Chuck would just get horny.

“But you’re right Grace. You can have all the boyfriends you want. I thought about it.”

“Did you do it?” I asked.

She paused and looked down at the floor.

Finally she spoke softly, “Not very often. But it’s a freedom that very few women enjoy and sometimes I just couldn’t resist a really good-looking stud. So I fucked some guys, but I always felt very guilty.”

Then she laughed a loud, sexy, musical laugh and said, “But hubby enjoyed the true stories just as much as the ones I made up.”

After a couple of months I knew the time had come for a new story. I used a variation on the one I had used before: Jimmy’s Bar while he was out of town. It worked wonders again.

But a couple of months later he started urging me to visit Jimmy’s again. I was starting to feel neglected in bed, but he had no business trips planned. I guess I gotta pretend to go there, I thought, if I wanna get my needy pussy serviced.

That night I dressed up like a whore in spikes, a really short miniskirt, and a low cut blouse that showed a lot of tit. I left the house in my car headed for a movie but realized I had forgotten my cellphone.

As I came around the block to go back to the house I saw Chuck come out of the driveway. Shit! Where’s he going? I followed him at a distance. Suddenly I realized he was headed for Jimmy’s Bar.

Oh my God! What now, I thought? I can’t just go to a movie. I’ve got to go to Jimmy’s as I told him I would. Otherwise he’ll know I been lying to him. And I’m dressed like a whore!

Chuck’s car was in the parking lot at Jimmy’s but he was nowhere to be seen. I figured he was back in the dark part of the room. I went in and sat at the end of the bar next to the wall. I need a drink to get through this, I thought. I’ll stay here for a couple of drinks and then go home.

“Macallan 12,” I said to the bartender. “On the rocks.”

A guy about thirty was sitting at the other end of the bar. He smiled and I looked away. Shit! This place is loaded with guys. Most of ’em seem to be either old or fat but the guy that smiled at me is good looking – a real hunk.

I looked over at him again and he smiled. I tried not to smile but he got up and headed for the empty chair on my right. Shit! I need another drink! I waved to the bartender and pointed at my empty glass.

“My name is Roger,” the guy said as he sat down next to me and slipped a business card into my purse. “What’s yours?”

“Grace,” I said nervously, trying not to smile at him. Maybe he’ll go away.

I looked back in the club and realized that somewhere back there in the darkness Chuck was watching this whole thing. He didn’t know I knew he was there and he was expecting me to get picked up and fucked. He thought I’d done it twice before in this bar and now he wants me to do it again. And he wants to watch it happen!

Somehow I gotta get rid of this guy. The bartender brought me my second drink and checked out my cleavage. I was so nervous that I drank it down almost in a single swallow. My God I thought, I’m gonna get drunk if I keep this up. Roger signaled the bartender to get me another.

The third drink went down faster than I intended and I tried to slow down on the fourth. I was starting to feel a buzz. I hadn’t drunk so much so fast since those two times in college. And both of those times I got fucked.

“There’s a lot of fat guys in this place,” I said with a giggle. It was the first thing that popped into my head. This is crazy, I told myself. I want him to leave me alone. How do I make him leave?

“Yeah and old guys too,” Roger said. “They’ve all been next door.”

I gotta say something. What?

“Next door looking at naked girls,” I said.

Shit! That’s the wrong thing to say. That scotch is getting to me. Before I knew what I was doing I had finished the fourth scotch.

Oh my God! Chuck was watching me drink with a strange man. I told him I got drunk and then horny those two times I got picked up here – just like in college. He thinks I’m gonna do the same thing tonight.

I gotta say something sarcastic to discourage this guy.

“Were you over there looking at naked girls too?” I asked.

Then I giggled. What is happening to me? Why am I giggling?

He nodded, leaned closer, and put his left arm around my shoulder. I didn’t want Chuck to see me push him away so I had to leave his arm there.

“You were looking at beavers,” I said trying to sound sarcastic.

But then I giggled. That silly giggle again! Shit! I can’t control myself!

“Oh yeah,” he said. “It’s beaver city over there and some of that beaver is for sale.”

“Have you bought any?” I asked hoping to insult him, but giggling again.

Shit! Why am I talking about beavers?

“Buying beaver is not my style,” he replied. “I prefer a needy housewife.”

“And just how do you find a needy housewife?” I asked, again with that drunken giggle that I couldn’t seem to control.

“She’ll be sitting at this bar alone, wearing a wedding ring, and she smiles back.”

Shit! The bastard thinks I’m a needy housewife with a neglected pussy hoping to get the damn thing serviced. Well, why shouldn’t he think that! I’m dressed like a whore and I let him put his arm around me. This handsome dude has probably serviced his share of needy housewives. I’m gonna have trouble getting rid of him.

Suddenly I felt something on my thigh. I looked down and saw Roger’s right hand gently rubbing my inner thigh under my miniskirt. Shit! I’ve got to leave it there! No way can I get mad when I told Chuck I came here to get picked up.

I was trapped! I wanted to get up and run but then Chuck would find out the whole thing was an act. Then he’d know I lied to him. The bartender placed another scotch in front of me and I started to sip it. I don’t wanna get drunk, I thought. If I get drunk I’m gonna get horny just like in college.

Roger was still stroking my thigh slowly moving his hand higher. I felt my miniskirt start to creep up. I got a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. Why is this bartender pouring such big drinks? Maybe I AM getting drunk. Oh shit!

Roger moved his hand higher up my thigh and shifted his body to conceal what he was doing. Then I felt a finger slip under the elastic band of my panties and I spread my legs a little.

Spread my legs? Shit! Why did I spread my legs for him?

Why the hell did I do that?

Suddenly I heard a voice inside my head answer that question: “You did it Grace because you’re getting drunk and you’re getting horny and you want your pussy played with.”

Well, I got my wish. I was dripping wet and Roger slipped his finger into me. What the hell, I thought. It’s too late to stop drinking now. I’m already drunk! I lifted up to make it easy for him, spread my legs wider, and felt my miniskirt move all the way up over my hips.

He got his thumb on my clit, slid two fingers into a very wet pussy, and began to move his hand with a gentle rhythm. Oh my God that feels good! Chuck has been neglecting that damn thing for a month. Jesus I need to fuck – I really need to fuck!

It was at that moment that I realized it was too late. Roger was gonna get exactly what he was looking for: A needy housewife with a neglected pussy!

Roger’s body shielded me from the people on our right and there was a wall on my left, but the bartender had a clear view. As he brought my next drink I saw his eyes look down and stare. I dropped my eyes to see what he was staring at.

Oh shit! My miniskirt was up so high he could see my beaver through my bikini panties. My naked thighs were spread obscenely. He could see Roger’s hand in my pants, his thumb on my clit and two fingers deep in my pussy. Roger was massaging me in a slow, gentle rhythm. And I was humping his hand – humping like a bitch in heat.

The bartender took his time setting down my drink. Then he looked at my wedding ring, made eye contact, winked and grinned. Clearly this was not the first time he had seen a needy housewife getting a neglected pussy played with at his bar. His eyes went back to Roger’s hand. Then he leaned casually against the bar and just stood there, watching me hump.

A few minutes later Roger whispered in my ear, “You’re nice and wet. You’re about ready. Want to go out to my car?”

I was drunk now and I was horny. I lifted another scotch to my lips and downed it all. What was that? My sixth? My seventh? I’m horny now and I’m gonna get laid. I hope I’ve had enough scotch to make it fun like in college.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding my head. “I’m ready.”

When the bartender heard me, his eyes went from my pussy to my face and he winked and grinned again. He knew exactly what I was ready for and he was right – I was ready to fuck. Roger took his hand out of my pants, fished some bills out of his shirt pocket with wet fingers, and dropped the money on the bar. I realized that somewhere back in the room Chuck saw me nod my head and he knew exactly what was about to happen to the woman he loved.

I didn’t know I was standing and walking till Roger guided me out the door to the parking lot. He led me – almost carried me – to a big black Infinity van. I knew that somewhere back in the darkness my husband was scurrying after us.

Roger helped me into the back of the van and the inside was as big as a truck. The seats were folded up and there was lots of room. Room to lay down which I did.

I felt Roger strip me down: panties and mini and blouse and bra. He left my spikes on – naked women look better in spikes.

Slowly he looked over my naked body – tits to beaver to spikes and then back to tits.

“Nice,” he said, softly.

I was very drunk and very horny – laying there stark naked. Now that big stud was taking off his own clothes, slowly – too slowly. Hurry up you bastard, I thought. You got me ready for it. My pussy’s been neglected for a month and I need it! Do me dammit. Do me!

A car drove out of the lot and in a flash of the headlights I saw Chuck standing next to the van in the darkness peering avidly through the window. There was enough light from a streetlamp shining in the other window for Chuck to see us clearly but I couldn’t see him standing in a shadow except when a car passed.

Well, I thought, his fantasy is about to come true. He’s gonna watch his drunken wife fuck like a whore. He thinks I’m doing it for him but what he doesn’t know is it’s MY fantasy too – my vibrator fantasy.

Roger was naked now and kneeling beside me. The biggest cock I ever saw was rock hard and sticking straight out. Jesus it was beautiful! I’m sure cocks look bigger when you’re drunk, but this one is huge. There’s not a gal alive who could look at that damn thing and not spread her legs like I’m spreading mine now.

Peeling back his heavy foreskin Roger shoved the head of that dick between my lips, held it there with one hand, grabbed the back of my head with the other, and started fucking me in the mouth.

“Get me ready baby!”

The man-smell of sweating male genitals flooded my senses with arousal. That huge cock was so long that I could hold it in both hands. I started to suck it. I ran my tongue around the head of his dick under his foreskin. Shit! The girls at Sigma Kappa were right. Uncircumcised cocks DO taste different.

I thought about Chuck a few feet away watching his loving wife suckin a big dick. I’ll bet he’s got his little peter out playing with it like when I tell him dirty stories. Only this time he’s getting to watch the real thing. I hope he doesn’t get sticky stuff on the back door of Roger’s van – he’s gonna shoot off more than once watching my pussy take a pounding.

As I sucked Roger’s dick I moved one hand down and started to massage his low-hanging balls. These were the biggest testicles I had ever felt. And they were heavy and sweaty. They’re full, I thought – but not for long!

“Spread ’em baby,” Roger said as he crawled between my legs and guided that wet monster into me. Jesus he felt big – a lot bigger than Chuck. I remembered how good it felt gettin fucked in college when I was drunk.

I spread my legs wider, lifted my feet up over his shoulders, my spikes high in the air, took that big dick deep, and started pumping my ass. Oh my God! That damn thing’s gonna bottom out!

And then it happened – something I had remembered and fantasized since college. That big dick started to feel fantastic going deep! I love my husband, I thought, I really do love him, but this is the best fuck I’ve had since college! It’s a drunken whore’s fuck, not the tender, loving fuck I get from my husband. I found myself working for an orgasm – humping hard, like a whore. Our sweaty bodies were slapping together and his huge testicles were smacking me in the ass as we both pumped steadily.

In frenzy – my husband forgotten – I started to grunt and talk dirty like a foul-mouthed slut. I pumped my ass matching Roger’s rhythm stroke for stroke. I was completely lost in private ecstasy … the pleasure of that passionate moment.

Suddenly another car drove by and I saw Chuck’s face pressed tightly against the window watching me fuck like a drunken slut. I didn’t care that my husband could hear me grunting and begging Roger to fuck me harder. I didn’t care if Chuck heard those wet squishy sounds my dripping pussy was making. I didn’t care that my husband was playing with his peter, turned on by watching Roger give this “needy housewife” exactly what she needed. I didn’t care about anything except this fuck – the ecstasy of that huge cock pounding deep into me and then slipping out of my dripping pussy and then pounding back in hard and deep … in and out … in and out … in and out.

Later, as I remembered that night I realized that I had had a series of fantastic, drunken orgasms before Roger was finished with me – explosive orgasms – trembling orgasms – screaming orgasms – too many to count – one right after the other. He fucked me till he was exhausted – and so was I.

It was a fabulous fuck – just like fuckin those two guys in college. Being drunk was what did it – no shame, no guilt, no regret – just passion and intense desire and exquisite pelvic pleasure. Being drunk is the secret! I can enjoy fuckin anybody when I’m drunk and still love my husband. And, best of all, my husband wants me to do it!

We lay resting for a long time and then Roger put on his shirt and pants and got out of the van to take a piss. Shit! Me too. After all that drinkin my bladder was about to burst. I jumped out of the van and squatting on the gravel in my spikes, buck-naked, I began to let loose a torrent of urine.

“There’s a car coming,” Roger said.

He stepped over to block their view, his long soft cock hanging out of his pants and dangling down in front of my face. We were lit up briefly and then the car was gone.

“Some guys are weird,” he said with a chuckle.

“How’s that?” I asked, still dripping urine and looking up past his peter at his face.

“I’ve read that watching a woman piss turns some guys on. I looked down and saw you lit up in those headlights; squatting there buck naked in spike heels and pissing big time. And it didn’t do a thing for me!”

“Maybe you’re normal, not perverted Roger,” I said as I finished peeing. “Watching women pee doesn’t turn on normal guys.”

“You call me normal when I get turned on by a guy watching me fuck his wife? I’m a pervert!” Roger said.

Shit! I thought. He must have seen Chuck watching us fuck and figured out who he was. Wow! Turned on by being watched by a husband. I almost laughed as I thought what a perfect match he was for poor Chuck. They were made for each other! Jesus! One likes to watch his wife get fucked and the other likes a gal’s husband to watch him fuck her.

“You mean it’s not just a user-friendly pussy?” I asked with a chuckle.

“Oh no,” he said. “It ain’t just the pussy. It’s knowing the poor bastard’s got a hard on and WANTS me to fuck his wife. And me knowing he likes it when he sees me make his bitch cum. I mean … he’s watching his wife pump her ass and he knows she enjoys fuckin ME more than him … and … and the poor bastard is helplessly aroused, pounding his peter, humiliated that both his wife and me are watching him jack off like a high school kid. That’s a special feeling! I got it. And it’s a turn on.”

I thought about Chuck’s reaction to my stories and I began to understand what Roger was talking about. Chuck was out of control jacking off the first time I told him about having orgasms fuckin those two guys in college.

I stood up, grabbed my mini and blouse from the van, and slipped them on. Roger’s long dick was still hanging out so I reached down and grabbed hold of it. It was soft but still quite large. I peeled his thick foreskin back and then pulled it down again over the bulbous head, playin with his cock – his skin was as soft as velvet.

“You got a beautiful dick Roger,” I said. “It’s useless now but it works wonderful when you can get it up.”

I continued to stroke it gently but it stayed flaccid.

“You wore it out,” he said. “It needs a day of rest.”

Another car drove by but we were dressed now. The headlights lit up the back door of the van, which was covered with spots and streaks and big globs of creamy semen, some of it still sliming its way down the side of the car.

Roger laughed softly and pointed to Chuck’s ejaculate. There was obviously more than one load. It looked like at least three, maybe more, I thought.

“I figured that was your husband looking through the window because he was jackin off as he watched us fuck,” Roger said with a lewd chuckle.

Obviously Roger had figured out who he was when he saw Chuck masturbating.

“Yeah,” I said. “Chuck likes to watch.”

“Well, knowing your husband was watchin made the fuckin a lot more fun for me. That poor bastard could hear his horny wife begging to get fucked harder and deeper. He sure had fun pounding his peter but I’m gonna have to wash my car.”

He laughed again as I kept stroking his pecker. It stayed soft but it was fun to play with.

“I play golf with a guy like that,” he said. “Jim Knox has a wife Hannah who is drop dead gorgeous and when she has a few drinks she fucks like a mink. She likes big uncircumcised cocks. Jim likes to watch me fuck her. Good pussy. Really good pussy!”

Hannah was an unusual name. Shit! There was a Hannah Roberts two years ahead of me in college and she was a Sigma Kappa – one of the gals who couldn’t keep her legs together when she was drunk.

There were a lot of stories about Hannah’s fucking. Sometimes she did two guys at once. And maybe even some black guys and there was a rumor – a solid rumor – that she had pulled a train at the Lambda Chi house. I wonder if this is that same gal?

“I knew a Hannah Roberts in college,” I said. “We were in the same sorority – Sigma Kappa.”

“That’s her,” Roger said. “That’s one really gorgeous bitch. I’m divorced, so havin a buddy with a little peter and a horny wife is very convenient. I simply stop by his house for a drink and after three or four drinks his wife starts takin off her clothes. I enjoy fucking Hannah with Jim watchin. Hannah’s got him very well trained and he behaves himself – just sits there next to the bed watchin us fuck and playin with his peter – a towel in one hand and his peter in the other.”

A little peter and a horny wife – that’s a good description of MY husband. It’s a small world, I thought, still playing with Roger’s peter, which was still soft. Jesus! He’s bigger soft than Chuck is with a hard on. I’m gonna need this beautiful thing again for sure. Now’s the time to proposition Roger. I’ve never asked a guy to fuck me before. I hope he doesn’t say no. Well, here goes:

“A bed is a lot better than the floor of a van Roger. You wanna come over to our place and fuck me? I think Chuck will behave himself and he’ll really enjoy watchin us fuck. He’ll also be impressed by the size of your cock, although right now it’s not all that impressive.”

He looked down at me playin with his long, soft peter. I held it between my thumb and forefinger and shook it playfully and we both laughed as that useless thing flopped around.

“How about next weekend?” Roger said. “Tell your lovin hubby that we’ll leave the lights on and he can sit close enough to smell it. You’ve got my card. If he wants to watch us do it, have him give me a call.”

“Have HIM give you a call?” I said. “He’ll never do THAT. He’s a proud man.”

I was shocked at Roger’s suggestion. If I invited Roger it would be okay with Chuck. But Chuck would never, NEVER invite another man over to our house to fuck me while he watched. That’s much too humiliating!

“Grace, let me tell you a story about Jim Knox. Jim’s a successful broker with a lot of money and a lot of pride. We were having a beer at the club last month after a round of golf. I hadn’t fucked his wife in over a week and I knew Jim was in the mood to watch it happen again. So when he invited me to his house ‘for a drink’ I knew exactly what he wanted.”

So I says to Jim, “Just a drink?”

And Jim replies, “Yeah a drink and … ah … well … you know.”

When I said, “No I don’t know,” he looked down at the table very embarrassed and said nothing.

“I just waited,” Roger said. “We’d been through this before and he was well aware of what he had to say.”

I was puzzled.

“What did he have to say?” I asked.

Roger chuckled and said, “He had to ask me to fuck his wife and then when I said I would, he had to ask me to let him watch me do it.”

“You were cucking him,” I said, laughing. “You were having fun making him humiliate himself.”

“Yeah I was,” Roger said laughing with me.

“You made him say it and when he said it you laughed at him. You bastard! You laughed at that poor helpless cuckold asking you to fuck his wife.”

“Well just a little chuckle. It’s always funny to hear a cuck say it. That’s a hard thing for a proud man to say but he knew he had to say it or he wouldn’t get to watch it. There are a lot of ways to say it but they are all very humiliating. He knew I wanted to hear it because it always turned me on.”

“Him asking you to fuck his wife turns you on?” I asked, surprised.

“It always does! Remember Grace. It’s not just the pussy – not just fucking the guy’s wife that I enjoy. I also enjoy fucking with the guy’s head – cuckolding him. Makin him ask me. Makin him say ‘Please.’ Making a proud man ask me to fuck his wife is a turn on for me.”

“And Grace, they all ask, all of them, no matter how proud they are because watchin is what gives them pleasure. And sexual pleasure is the most powerful of all human emotions and the pursuit of it overwhelms everything else, including pride.”

“If you want to see how powerful sexual pleasure is, look at the amount of your husband’s ejaculate on my car door! Next weekend you’ll see it for yourself. Your husband will watch us fuck and he’ll masturbate into a towel again and again. His dick won’t even get soft after he pumps a load before he starts pounding it again. And the expression on a cuck’s face as he watches his wife pump her ass for a stud has to be seen to be believed – overwhelming sexual pleasure.”

“You’re sure Chuck will ask you to fuck me? It’s so humiliating to ask another man to fuck your wife.”

“Of course it’s humiliating. Intensely humiliating! That’s the whole point. But he’ll remember that overwhelming sexual pleasure of watching us fuck in the back of my car just now. So the struggle between humiliation and sexual desire will begin. Sexual desire always wins, so he’ll break.”

“And he’ll be grateful to me for letting him watch. He’ll ask in a nice way and say ‘Please.’ His surrender will turn me on. It’s like the pleasure I get when a woman surrenders and spreads her legs for me.”

“You’re gonna cuck my husband!” I said with a giggle.

Roger chuckled. “Very gently Grace, I’m gonna cuck him very gently. And after all, your husband will get sexual pleasure from being cuckolded. He’ll turn on. He’ll probably get a hard on.”

“Okay, but please be gentle with him Roger. Remember I love him,” I said. “I’m doing this to please him.”

“Listen to that phone-call Grace. It’ll turn you on just like it does me. And it’ll help you understand how to please your husband better. Cucking hubby is a lot more than just letting him watch you fuck his buddies. You gotta understand his emotions and play them like a fine musical instrument to produce that delicate balance between humiliation and sexual pleasure and total helplessness.”

“The more humiliation he feels the more sexual pleasure he has. And the more sexual pleasure he has the more humiliation he feels because he’s getting that sexual pleasure from watchin the woman he loves enjoy fuckin another man. He feels completely helpless to do anything except play with his peter and watch his wife fuck.”

“Trust me Grace. After what your hubby saw tonight in the dark, the chance to watch it again with the lights on, sitting right next to the bed, will be so irresistible that he’ll say anything I want to hear. Want me to make him beg?”

“Don’t make him beg Roger. Please. I’ll see that he asks you politely.”

I thought about what Roger was saying. I’ll be giving my husband overwhelming sexual pleasure. That’s a wife’s job, but who would have suspected that what gave my husband that overwhelming pleasure was the humiliation of watching me pump my ass to cum with a stud.

I’d better get home, I thought. I put Roger’s soft peter back in his pants and he zipped up. I got my panties, purse, and bra from the van, thanked Roger for a fabulous fuck, and gave him a lingering, goodnight kiss – a lovers’ kiss.

Then I walked back to my car. Throwing my underwear and purse in the other seat, I drove home not even thinking about what would happen if a cop stopped me. I had sobered up a lot after over an hour of vigorous sex. Wonderful sex!

Chuck met me at the door, horny as hell. He carried me up the stairs to bed and stripped me naked, laughing when he discovered I wasn’t wearing any pants. Trembling with passion he climbed in the saddle. He was as horny as I had ever seen him.

“It’s very well lubricated,” he said as he shoved his dick into my jism-filled pussy. “It feels really wonderful this way.”

Damn, I thought – he likes sloppy seconds. There’s a lot of jism in there. What had Roger pumped? Three loads? Or was it four? It’s hard to keep count when you’re so damn drunk and the fuckin feels so damn good.

“Tell me about it,” Chuck begged eagerly. “Tell me everything. Please!”

Shit! He’d watched it and heard it but now he wants me to talk to him about it. By now I knew exactly what he liked to hear – me getting drunk and horny and helpless and then getting fucked like a whore – so I whispered in his ear.

“I went into Jimmy’s and sat at the end of the bar and this guy – a real hunk named Roger – sat down next to me. I was drinking a lot and you know when I get drunk I get horny. After the third drink that bastard starts rubbing my thigh and it felt good. I have another drink and he moves his hand up and slips a finger under my pants. I’m getting so horny that I spread my legs to make it easy for him to play with my pussy. He starts to finger fuck me and my miniskirt slips up over my hips and the bartender is watching us. He can see everything. I have two more drinks and now I’m drunk and horny and I need to get laid – need it real bad.”

Poor Chuck is fucking me hard now – just pounding me. But he jacked off so many times watching Roger fuck me that he’s having trouble pumping another load. He’s grunting and straining and fucking hard but he can’t cum. Turn him on, I tell myself. Keep giving him what he likes to hear. Be the wife he needs!