I knew something wasn’t quite right as soon as his tongue began stroking my pussy. He was licking me differently. And he didn’t go for my clit as soon as he usually did. In fact, he seemed to be taking his time when he usually tried to make me cum as quickly as possible. But I tried to ignore the changes, content to enjoy the improvement in his love-making skills. Apparently, he was listening to my requests after all. I groaned in pleasure and decided to settle back and just enjoy it.
But he was just too different to ignore the differences. I raised my head to look at him when I ‘complimented’ him on the changes, but then I remembered that I couldn’t see him.
My name is Barbara and my husband’s name is Peter. And we were trying to fulfill a fantasy that we had discussed, but only slightly discussed and in little detail. Actually, it was more of a mention than a discussion.
Peter had convinced me to let him blindfold me tonight in an attempt to spice up our sex life. And not only was I blindfolded, but I was also handcuffed to the bed.
“Honey, I don’t want to be constrained. That is not one of my fantasies.” But my protest apparently wasn’t strong enough.
“But it IS one of my fantasies. Come on, Barb, we agreed that tonight was a night for fantasies. We both know things have become a little stale lately, and we both agreed to live out some of our fantasies as a way to avoid the boredom. So let’s try it this once. If you really don’t like it, then we will never do it again. Okay?” He paused for a couple of seconds while I thought about it. “Agreed?” His voice was more hopeful than demanding, so my resistance weakened and then finally dissipated.
“Okay. Just this once. But promise me that if I don’t like it, we won’t do it again. Promise?” My fear of being locked in the dark unable to do anything came from an experience I had as a child and it still haunted me. It was terrifying then and I had no interest in voluntarily repeating it now.
I looked at my husband carefully. We were married nine years ago when I was twenty-one and tomorrow was my thirtieth birthday, followed one week later by our tenth anniversary. I considered our marriage to be better than average, but the two of us had agreed that things were getting stale and almost boring. We both had better than average jobs which paid us better than average incomes. And we were both better than average in physical appearance. That was all good, right?
I was a slim five feet eight inches tall, with boobs that were a full D-Cup. And my dark nipples were quite expressive, getting large and hard at the smallest provocation. My face always draws compliments from those whose eyes made it higher than my chest, and my eyes were a bright blue. I worked out three times a week, but I stopped short of developing what some called a hard body. I wanted enough muscles to shape my body into soft and gentle curves, but not enough to look like I had just come from the gym. So I worked hard to maintain a balance between skin and bones versus looking like a body-builder. And apparently I have found that balance enough to make my husband hard whenever I want to. Which was frequently. Or at least used to be frequently.
Peter was almost but not quite handsome. He was tall, right at six feet, and he weighed exactly two hundred pounds, give or take a pizza or two. He had soft brown eyes that could sparkle when he was having fun and then turn dark when he was in a bad mood. He worked out regularly so his body was trim and evenly muscled. But his best feature was his tongue. He could do things to my pussy with his tongue that belonged in the history books.
Of course, he was always complaining that his jaw was too large, but I tried to convince him that a large jaw was a strong jaw, an indication that he was a confident man. Naturally, he never totally bought that argument. So I tried to explain that his ‘strong’ jaw rubbed my pussy wonderfully as he sucked on my clit and he partially bought that argument, if his grin was any indication.
But I could tell that he was always thinking he had a small dick. He seldom said anything, but his fears frequently came out when we watched porn together, which was often. We never made love after watching porn — we fucked after watching porn. Peter was forceful when we had sex after watching men with nine inch cocks fuck the beautiful women in the video. And he became almost violent when the women made lots of comments about the men and their large cocks. Plus, he tended to chase his orgasm and forgot mine. His pattern of being pissed over the large cocks in the porn videos was so obvious that I even brought it up once. That started an argument about something totally unrelated to small cocks, or even to sex at all. I only brought it up once.
The truth is, I love his cock. It is plenty long enough to penetrate me and make me cum easily. And it is the perfect size for sucking and small enough to deep-throat without too much difficulty. And when he is aroused, it is the hardest cock I have ever experienced.
When we watch porn together, I sometimes point out that the bigger the cock, the more difficulty they had in making it hard. And I point out that this was common in all the porn we watched, where most of the really big cocks barely got hard enough to fuck the woman. The proverbial ‘big black cock’ was, more often than not, flopping around until he forced it into the nearby pussy. And finally, when the big cock was not being sucked by a woman or being pounded into her pussy, it tended to get soft quickly, requiring the man to stroke it when the woman wasn’t. But the few times I mentioned this just made him more argumentative, and then more aggressive when we finally fucked.
Don’t get me wrong, I love it when Peter takes me and fucks me like I was a whore. In fact, I sometimes ask him to treat me like a slut and fuck me like he owns me. And when he does, I always cum harder than usual. Of course, I am sometimes a little sore afterwards, but that usually passes in a day or two. And then we are back at it.
Yes, we definitely had a sex life that was better than average.
But apparently, a better than average sex life doesn’t avoid mediocrity and even boredom. And that apparently was where we were at. So we finally talked about it a couple weeks ago and we agreed to explore some of our fantasies, just to see if they added some spice to our lives.
We started out a little slow. Peter wanted me to dress up in a short plaid skirt and a white button-down blouse, with my hair braided in pigtails. I never knew he had a schoolgirl fantasy, but I did it anyway. That only happened once because he literally ripped my clothes off and pounded me until my pussy was quite sore. So I decided that particular fantasy could get very expensive very quickly, and more than a little painful for me.
Next, we tried a fantasy I never admitted I had, not even to myself. I came home from the store one night and was raped by a prowler that was hiding in my bedroom. The sex was great, but I became conflicted about enacting a rape and so we agreed to not try it again.
We tried several more fantasies and they all seemed to work for a few hours, but none of them actually changed anything. We still went back to a better than average sex life in just a few days.
And then Peter came up with the blindfold thing. After talking about it for several minutes, actually, more than an hour, I finally agreed. And then, when he stretched me out on the bed and pulled out the blindfold, I balked.
A few minutes later, he convinced me and he slowly slid the blindfold over my eyes. I felt a few seconds of panic before I squelched my childhood fears. And then he kissed me, and that seemed to totally end my anxiety. I loved kissing Peter.
Until I felt the hard steel go around my wrists!
“What the fuck, Peter? What are you doing?” I almost shouted the words and I heard him chuckle quietly.
“Easy, Barb, this is part of the blindfold thing. In all the porn we have watched, you never saw a blindfold without handcuffs. It’s okay, nothing will happen to you.” His words calmed me down enough for me to remember that the purpose of these fantasies was for something to happen to me, but I stopped short of actually saying that aloud. So I let him handcuff me to the headboard.
As I explored my range of motion, I discovered that it was quite limited, at least for my upper body. I also discovered that if I challenged that limited range, the handcuffs bit my wrists painfully. When I mentioned this to Peter, he just laughed and told me to lay still. I was split between being really irritated at him and being really excited by him, and I wondered what he was going to do to me.
There was silence in the room long enough for me to all out to him.
“Peter, are you there?” I heard him reply, but he sounded like he was across the room.
“Easy, honey. I am still here.” And then I felt the bed move as he crawled up from the bottom to where I hoped the fun would start.
I spread my legs for him and I heard a moan. I felt hands on my thighs, stroking them and caressing them. Then I felt lips high up my thighs near my pussy, kissing them and licking them. And finally, I felt a tongue on my pussy lips and it was my turn to moan. My pussy was always reactive and when I was turned on, I oozed cream easily and constantly. And I could feel my pussy drooling in seconds.
Peter’s tongue worked on my outer lips, and they became swollen and puffy with passion in just a few seconds. He licked first my left lip for a few seconds, and then my right lip for another few seconds, with long slow strokes. Next he worked on my inner lips, something that I dearly loved. My inner lips were long and rubbery and I loved it when they were pulled and stretched and sucked and even nibbled on. And he was doing a great job tonight. And THAT was when I first noticed he was doing things differently than usual.
I froze for a second, wondering what was going on. But just then Peter’s lips locked onto my clit and he sucked it like a vacuum cleaner. I moaned so loudly I was sure the neighbors heard. Then he sucked my clit again just as hard and I shouted in pleasure. I suddenly didn’t give a shit if the neighbors heard.
He licked my pussy in slow, broad strokes. Then he sucked on my clit for a few seconds. And finally he stuck his tongue deep into my pussy and slurped up all the juices I was generating. Then he started the pattern over, all the while moaning and groaning loudly. A few minutes later, he pushed two fingers into my pussy and fucked me with them while he sucked on my clit. And he made me cum hard!
My body shuddered and jiggled and quivered while my pussy rippled and pulsed and squeezed his fingers. Juices just poured out of my pussy. I may not squirt like so many women claimed they did, but I produced a constant flow of juices when I came. And Peter seemed to like it more than usual, as he groaned loudly and slurped everything he could.
Peter usually rolled over when he made me cum and rested, while my pussy just simmered and my body screamed for more. But tonight he seemed to hear that scream and he slowed down his finger-fucking for a few seconds and then went back at it. I screamed in surprise and in pleasure, and then reduced the noises I was making to a constant flow of moans and groans.
He licked and sucked my clit and he finger-fucked my pussy and I felt myself building toward my second orgasm. Several seconds later, I felt myself cum in a ferocious orgasm and my body bowed up and froze. I couldn’t scream even though my body wanted to very much. Finally, I dropped flat on my back and let go that scream, while by body continued to jerk and quiver and my pussy rippled in pleasure. It took at least thirty seconds for my body to calm down and it seemed to have aftershocks every few seconds. I lay there, my body nearly exhausted. But Peter was not finished with me.
I felt the head of his cock rub up and down my pussy, taking advantage of the gallons of cum I had just produced. And then I felt him enter me. Unlike his usual plunge, he eased in a couple of inches and then paused. Then he pulled out an inch and eased in several inches again. Pausing again for a couple of seconds, I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong, but he plunged the rest of the way in and hit my cervix. I screamed in surprise, and then I froze.
Peter wasn’t big enough to hit my cervix, yet this cock just hit my cervix! Something was wrong! I opened my mouth to say something and then I froze again. It isn’t Peter! There is an unknown man in my pussy! Who is it? What should I do? I panicked for a moment, and then a thought hit me.
If there was a stranger inside my pussy, it was because Peter allowed him to be there. After all, I was talking to him, right? And now it makes sense why he sounds like he is across the room. HE IS ACROSS THE ROOM! Peter had invited someone else into our bed!
Suddenly, my mind was spinning. I wasn’t sure if I should demand to know what was going on, or if I should just go with it and enjoy this stranger who obviously knew how to make love. And then my mind produced a plan all by itself, and I knew exactly what I was going to do. I relaxed, intent on enjoying the lovemaking efforts I was experiencing.
By this time, the stranger was making long, slow strokes, penetrating me deeply each time. The sensations he was causing brought me unbelievable pleasures, and I was simply basking in these feelings. His cock was long and thick and he was stretching me like I had not been stretched in many years. It was wonderful. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his face to me. I kissed him deeply, experiencing a thrill because I knew the man was not Peter.
The kiss was passionate. Our tongues danced and then did battle and then returned to dancing. Whoever this man was, he was an awesome kisser!
I wondered who this stranger was. Was he a friend of Peter’s? Was he a friend of ours? Did I know him? The questions flowed through my mind as quickly as the juices flowed out of my pussy. And all the time, this stranger was bringing me unbelievable pleasures. And my next orgasm continued building deep in my tingling body.
And then I felt something nudge my right cheek. I turned my head and my lips were now being nudged. Without thinking, I opened my mouth and felt a cock push inside. This cock was quite thick and uncircumcised, making it evident that it did not belong to my husband. Several inches of cock were now in my mouth and it began to ease in and out and I realized that Peter had given up all pretense of stealth. He knew that a man could not be fucking my pussy, so wonderfully I might add, and at the same time be fucking my mouth. There were obviously two strangers here and Peter knew I must be aware of his trick by now. He was using the blindfold as a way of getting two strange men to fuck me at the same time, and he was using the handcuffs as a way to keep me from stopping it from happening.
And I had to confess that this was the most erotic experience of my life!
Two strange men were fucking my body with my husband watching!
The cock in my pussy began thrusting harder and faster, and I was getting close. And the cock in my mouth was moving faster. I could feel this second cock swell a little more and I knew he was getting close. Now it was a race to see which of the three of us would cum first. I was about to feel a stranger cum in my pussy and another stranger cum in my mouth. And I was going to cum for the third time tonight. All three of these experiences would be a first for me and I was unbelievably excited about all three. I moaned loudly to let all three men know about my excitement. And then I felt a huge amount of cum flood my mouth.
It was thick and warm and a little saltier than Peter, but it was incredible. This was the first cum I tasted that didn’t come from Peter since we were married almost ten years ago, and it was so naughty. I swallowed and then I swallowed again, but it was still too much cum for my mouth to handle it all and some leaked past my tight lips and down my cheek to puddle on the bed. I was now so turned on that my pussy tightened around the dick that was now pounding me into my third orgasm so hard that it made me cum. I tried to scream in pleasure but the cock in my mouth prevented it. Instead, I had to settle for loud noises as my body bounced and shuddered for quite some seconds.
And then I heard loud grunts and felt a huge amount of cum forcefully paint the walls of my pussy. I felt jet after jet of hot and sticky fluid squirt into my pussy as this stranger fucked me. And I felt what seemed like gallons of cum seep out of my pussy and flow down to my ass and onto the sheets below. I felt exhausted and I felt satisfied and I felt so turned on.
The dick in my mouth slowly pulled out and I ran my tongue around my mouth to make sure I had swallowed everything. Then the dick in my pussy slowly pulled out, leaving my pussy feel empty and even aching at the loss. The room was silent for several seconds except for my ragged breathing. Finally, my blindfold was removed and I was staring up at Peter’s face. He was grinning down at me as he removed my handcuffs. I looked around while he was releasing my hands and saw that the men were gone. And as soon as my hands were free, I slapped him hard. Peter jerked back, a look of shock on his face.
“You bastard! You brought two strange men into our bedroom and you let them rape me, knowing I was handcuffed and could do nothing to stop them. You bastard!” I glared at him, amazed at my newfound acting ability. I pointed at the door and shouted at him.
“Get out of my bedroom!” And I continued to glare at him.
His expression was one of surprise and disappointment, but I continued pointing at the door.
“Out, dammit!” I was demanding in both my words and my voice, my body language making my message complete. My pussy was dripping a mixture of a stranger’s cum and my cum, and I paused to enjoy the ooze down my inner thighs. And then I paused to review the activities that produced the fluids that were oozing down my thighs. Finally, I turned to Peter. He cringed slightly, waiting for my attack. I paused a little longer and then grinned at him.
“You got their phone numbers and addresses, right?”