The affair was the undoing of my marriage, though not in the way you may be thinking.
My name is Greg. I’d met Brenda one hot, early summer day as I was mowing the lawn and she came jogging by. She stopped and jogged in step, asking me a few questions about the neighborhood. She said she and her husband had just moved in down the street and wanted to get to know everyone.
I saw her eye the beer bottle I pulled from a jury-rigged holder at the side of my lawnmower and asked if she’d like one. “It’s a light beer, in case you’re worried.”
She smiled and said, “Are you implying I should be worried if it wasn’t?”
I was a little tongue-tied but managed to spit out that I wasn’t implying any such thing. I told her she looked sensational, which was the truth. She had her long, blond hair tied back in a ponytail. She wore a sports bra that barely contained her tits, and with it being wet from sweat, her nipples stood out prominently. She had a great ass, itself barely contained by her jogging shorts, which was atop two sensational legs. Yes, from head to toe a hot number.
“Then don’t just stand there, let’s get that beer,” she said, and we walked toward my backyard deck where the cooler was. She fished in the icy chest and pulled out a Sam I was saving for later. “Mind it if I take this one?” she asked. What was I to say? I walked to her with the bottle opener and popped off the cap. She placed the cold bottle against my bare, sweaty chest. I flinched, and she said, “I figured that would feel good after all that hard work.”
“I guess,” I said, “though I can think of other ways to feel good after hard work.”
She nudged against me, and said, “I bet you can.”
Just then my wife, Diane, appeared on the deck and asked what was going on. I introduced Brenda to her, explaining that she was new in the neighborhood. The two women were sizing each other up as I nervously stumbled over the introduction. My wife is a petite brunette. Since she has small (though beautifully firm and perky, I might add) breasts, she’d always exhibited jealousy whenever I spoke with an endowed woman, and Brenda was no exception based on Diane’s body language.
Brenda took a long pull on her bottle, and then said, “I’d better be going. See you around, Greg.” She lightly touched my chest as she placed her half-finished beer on top of the cooler and jogged away. I watched her ponytail sway, her tits bounce, and her ass cheeks swivel as she ran, and from that moment on I was hooked.
I studied Brenda’s weekend jogging schedule, and made it a point to be outside at strategic times as she ran by. I also tried to do that covertly so Diane wouldn’t notice, but I couldn’t say how successful I was. Brenda would stop, and we’d talk, though flirting would be more like it.
One particularly hot and humid early Friday evening, I was outside, shirtless, ostensibly working in my yard but basically waiting for Brenda. I can’t claim washboard abs, yet I knew my lean physique drew women’s attention whenever I was shirtless, like at the beach. I vividly remembered Brenda’s attention to my bare chest the first time we met. Thus I was shirtless again. When she jogged by, she stopped and waved. I walked down to the curb to meet her.
“You look like you’ve been working too long in this heat,” she said. “Why don’t you follow me back to my house and use our pool? That’s where I’m going. Shit, it’s too hot and humid to run anyway, or all this silly yard work.” When she caught me glancing at the house, she added, “You worried about your wife? She can come too, if that’s what you want.”
Her expression said that was the last thing she wanted. “What about your husband?” I asked, taking the bait.
She smiled and said, “Tom? He’s actually gone on a golfing trip for the weekend with his buddies. That’s why I’d love the company.”
The subplot was subplot no longer; I knew the score now with the invitation. “Should I get my suit?”
“What do you think?” she answered. “Unless you need to go and ask wifey for permission.”
“Not necessary,” I said. Caution (and perhaps marriage) be damned, I dropped what I was doing and walked with Brenda to her house, allowing my cock to think for me. Their home was at the tail end of a cul-de-sac a few streets away from mine.
Once there, she pulled two imported beers from the fridge and handed me one, saying “Better stuff than that light crap I saw you drinking.” Looking at the label, I had to agree. She then said, “I’m going to shower after my run. Why don’t you get comfortable, head on back to the pool, and I’ll be out shortly.”
I think I hid my disappointment well when she mentioned a shower without inviting me, but the day was still young, unless of course I was seeing this all wrong. I took my beer out through her patio door and through a small area much like a lanai, with wrought iron patio furniture and a covered hot tub, and then to the pool. She made the invite, so I dropped my shorts and dove in.
I swam a few laps, cooling off nicely on this hot and humid summer day. I looked up to see Brenda walk up to poolside, wearing a robe and carrying her beer bottle. “How’s the water?” she said. “Not too warm, is it?” She let the robe slip to the ground, and I was stunned, unable to answer her.
Naked, she was a goddess. Her breasts jutted out proudly, firm and upright. She was shaved smooth, her bald outer labia very pronounced, and quite inviting. She’d released her hair from the ponytail and now it was swirled about and pinned up on top of her head. I grew instantly hard.
She didn’t dive in; instead she seductively walked down the pool steps to the shallow end and then waded over to me. Her hand went directly to my cock. “Mmmmmm, nice size, thick around but not too long, nice. Why don’t you scoot up on the edge right here?”
I pulled myself up on the pool’s edge and sat with my feet dangling in the water. She got between my legs, smiled up at me, and slid my cock between her inviting lips. She was at the perfect height for a blow job like this, so I was certain the pool depth at this spot had been well researched, perhaps with her husband, but maybe with other men as well.
She was a damned expert sucker. She would run her lips over my length slowly, taking me deep, before switching to a rapid pace, all the while maintaining sexy eye contact with a gleam in her eye. She knew she was good. I knew I was getting there fast.
“I’m…gonna…cum,” I groaned.
I thought she was smiling as she kept sucking me, her lips vibrating a bit as she softly moaned.
“Arghhhhhhhh!” I unloaded down her throat. She took everything I sent her way, only a small trickle appearing at the corner of her mouth failed to be swallowed. I followed my cum-cry with, “Oooooooooooooooo, that felt great.”
“Wasn’t it a good idea to come over here and cool off?” Brenda said with a smile and a giggle.
I slid back down into the water. “Cool off, my ass! You’re almost too hot!” I said as she pressed her tits into my chest.
Her hand was wrapped around my not-quite-flaccid cock when she said, “What do you mean by ‘almost?’ I think I’m hot enough, right?”
The way my cock was quickly recuperating, responding to her touch and the feel of her marvelously firm breasts pushing against me, certainly confirmed she was indeed hot enough. Then she leaned in and kissed me, probing her tongue between my lips. I tasted the salty tang of my own ejaculate that was still in her mouth. My cock came alive; amazing me so soon after just cumming, attesting to her power, her sexual heat.
She led me from the pool and back to the patio lanai. For a moment I thought of Diane and the shitstorm I’d have to endure when I got back home—but only for a very brief moment. Brenda walked to a patio lounger, nonchalantly saying, “I like doggie-style…I really like doggie,” as she knelt on the chair with her ass to me.
To my way of thinking, there is no more arousing sight than a woman’s willing cunt from behind, framed by her thighs as she kneels in front of you. Brenda’s was beyond beautiful, and I was most assuredly aroused. My cock throbbed, wanting to be there, but I wanted to taste her too. I fell to my knees and moved my face between her thighs and south of her ass. Slipping my tongue between her still wet from the pool labia, I tasted her above the chlorine. She was apparently as aroused as I was, and so very well-lubricated.
Her ass squirmed as I ate her pussy. She purred, “Oh yes, that’s good…that’s good,” as she thrust her hips backward to fuck my tongue. Then she blurted out, “My ass! I love anal too, so do me…”
I normally wasn’t one for rimming, but there I was, and her hole looked clean enough. I slipped my tongue tip through the clench of her sphincter. Her moans and her wriggling were my acknowledgment.
My cock was rock-hard, begging for action, and perhaps “weeping” too, considering the amount of pre-cum I was dripping. I stood and positioned myself at her pussy and eased in.
“Yes, yes, don’t play games, fuck me hard…fuck me hard!” she yelled.
“At your command, babe,” I muttered and rammed it home.
She implored me to go faster and deeper. I was banging her as rapidly as I could. She yelled, “Deeper! Arghhhhh, deeper!” That had me wondering if her husband was exceptionally hung, and that maybe I didn’t measure up. Nevertheless, I suffered no performance anxiety, banging her as deeply as I could to the point her knees were rising from the lounger at every thrust.
She cooed like a pigeon, and her vagina felt different, though she exhibited no additional signs she’d had the orgasm I thought she had. In contrast, my wife’s were much more intense, and one gal I dated was the screamer to end all screamers. After all the build-up and foreplay, I thought Brenda’s climax would be more forceful. I should have been more patient.
Brenda murmured, “My ass…fuck my ass…”
She didn’t have to tell me twice. I left one door and entered the other. This one was a tighter squeeze, and I reveled in its tightness. I fucked her as fast and as furious as she begged me to while I was in her vagina.
This time she was much more vocal. “Ohhhhhh Goddddddd!” she screamed as she shivered and shook. She kept up a litany of swears and exhortations as her orgasm consumed her, and caused her sphincter to horse-collar my cock. That was it—my turn to shiver and shake. I coated her bowels with several ropes of cum, so many I lost count.
I didn’t get to enjoy any post-coital torpor, for Brenda pulled me to the pool and jumped in, with me right behind her. In the water, she smothered me with kisses, in-between telling me what a good lover I was. “We must do this again!” she proclaimed. “You game?”
Yes I was! “What about your husband? He go away often?”
“Lots of times; I get very lonely,” she said, stroking my underwater flesh snorkel until it did what snorkels are meant to do—seek the surface. She continued, “What about your wife? She doesn’t give you enough so she lets you play?”
“Well, it’s not quite like that, but I guess so.” In reality it wasn’t anything like that; Diane would kill me if she found me cheating, though right then I’d risk it for more of Brenda’s ass.
“Oh Greg, you’re fucking hard again! Fuck me!” she implored. We were standing in the pool so I wondered if she meant to do it there. Her answer was to offer me her backside, so I slid the head of my cock to her pussy lips. That’s when she told me “No…I want you to take my ass again.”
I wasn’t sure about lubrication, being underwater and all, but I punched my cockhead in there anyway and pushed. She gasped, but I kept pushing. Underwater, I couldn’t keep the frantic pace she demanded before, though I fucked her as fast as I could. Pretty soon she screamed, and seconds later I was cumming too.
We sort of cleaned off in the pool. As I followed her out of the water, she murmured, “I swear I must have a clit in my ass or something.” I had to laugh at that, and she giggled right along with me. As I said, I didn’t have much experience with anal sex, but knowing a woman like Brenda who seemed to love it so much was certainly priceless. She begged me not to let this afternoon be a one-time thing. I assured her it wouldn’t be. I couldn’t believe my amazing luck.
When I got home, I expected Diane to go ballistic. Instead, she was serene, never pressing me to explain where I’d gone. Perplexing for sure, yet I wasn’t going to press the matter either, for obvious reasons.
As the summer progressed, occasionally Brenda would jog by and somehow let me know she was alone. I’d make excuses and slip over to her house. We’d fuck in the pool, out of the pool, her bedroom, the shower, and once in their hot tub. She was superbly multi-orgasmic, especially when I reamed her derriere. She was so hot a fuck that I hesitated letting her blow me, for she was such a deep-throat specialist that I’d cum down her eager throat, and then have to work at getting it up again to satisfy her insatiable libido. She was a fuck-buddy sent from heaven, and many a day I wondered about her husband. What kind of man would leave a hot woman like this alone? I never saw any photos at her house, so I let my imagination run wild, picturing him as an ogre, a fat-cat dude she married for money.
I believe you’ve gotten the picture by now. I love my wife, but I’m a serial cheater by nature. Brenda wasn’t my first mistress, and she probably wouldn’t be my last. Diane was hot in her own right, and certainly enjoyed sex, yet the eternal draw for “something new” was my motivation. With Brenda, as with others I’ve had affairs with, I was hooked on the 180-degree differences: Diane was very petite, dark, with narrow hips and small breasts; Brenda was a curvy blond with a fantastic booty and large tits to match. Diane kept a landing strip of pubic hair, Brenda shaved. See what I mean?
One Saturday afternoon as I pulled out of her anus, leaving a dribbling creampie behind, Brenda asked me how my wife has been lately. I thought the question odd. “What do you mean, like does she suspect anything?”
“Not that, I was wondering how she’s been in bed with you. Well, maybe that is indirectly connected to what you and I have been up to. Have you had more or less sex with her lately?”
“Less, I think. You think she does suspect, or maybe it’s my fault?”
“No, not that…er…never mind,” she said, “You better be scooting home or she will be suspicious, if she isn’t already.” She seemed to be in deep thought as I dressed. Before I kissed her and left, she said, “You know what we need to do? We must have a get-together, the four of us, all innocent like, so Diane can meet Tom and me, and Tom can meet you too.”
“You think that’s a good idea? What if we slip up?”
“No sweat. After Tom gets to know you, it will…ah…give you an excuse to be here…after. You know what I mean?”
Frankly, I didn’t see it, but the devil in me figured it would be cool to stoke my wife’s natural jealousy streak by seeing Brenda in her bikini, and besides, my curiosity about Tom would be answered. We planned it for the following weekend. I went home and sprang the idea on Diane. She surprised me by not asking how the invitation came about, especially since she’d seen me speaking with Brenda out by the street a few times as she jogged by. The big surprise was her saying yes.
I grew extremely nervous as the weekend neared. Would Tom be an asshole? Would Diane be too cold to socialize once she was closer to Brenda? Would Brenda do or say something that would give us away? All these worries were driving me crazy.
Before walking over to Brenda’s house, I wondered if Diane wore her bikini under her shorts and blouse, but I couldn’t tell and she didn’t say. We’d picked up a couple of bottles of good wine, so that was our contribution to the get-together. Brenda told me that they’d provide the food for grilling and beer if anyone wanted some.
Tom answered the door. Of course, he wasn’t anything like the ogre I imagined. He was lean, an inch or so taller than me, with thinning brown hair and a wiseacre grin. He greeted Diane warmly as we made introductions, and that cranked up my jealousy factor a little bit.
Brenda was in full party host mode, making sure glasses remained filled and food orders were taken as Tom took up position at the grill. Plenty of burgers, kabobs and other meats were grilled up with aplomb. We filled up on good food and drink while the usual small talk ensued. Brenda played it cool throughout, just the right amount of attention to me as any hostess would give a guest. My wife can be cold sometimes, especially after meeting new people, however she immediately took to Tom, it seemed. They chatted and laughed about things I found mundane. It was as if they’d known each other forever instead of only a little more than an hour.
Brenda suggested a dip in the pool. She ducked into the house to change into her suit. Tom was already in long board shorts that probably were swim attire. Diane peeled off her clothes to reveal her bikini, one I’d never seen, and that surprised me. I’d never seen her in one so skimpy, almost three-triangles-and-cord! Maybe she was the one plucking the jealousy string. I also wore my swim shorts underneath my slacks, though my disrobing wasn’t about to have the same effect as my wife doing it.
Brenda came back out in her bikini and dove into the pool. Tom and then Diane followed. I was last. I was happy to see Diane being relaxed and civil, as well as happy to see Brenda acting naturally also. Our small talk continued while we waded. Tom talked about his job and I, mine. Brenda and Diane swam to the deepest part and acted like old buddies, which continued to amaze and mystify me. When we got out, I couldn’t help myself, staring at Brenda’s marvelous nipples poking at the fabric of her wet bikini bra.
Tom sidled up next to me and whispered, “She’s a knockout, isn’t she?”
“Busted,” I said. “You caught me.”
“Hey, I understand. By the way, your little Diane is a firecracker…a goddam spinner. You’re a lucky man.”
I tried not to choke on his words, thinking about all the times I’d banged his wife these past summer weeks. He sure seemed to be thinking about the same thing with Diane. I’d better watch out.
Diane went into the house, presumably to use the toilet. Tom made an excuse and he went in also. My jealous concern was set aside when Brenda undid her top and asked me to apply sunscreen. She lay down on a lounger, thankfully facing down so I wouldn’t feel self-consciously nervous rubbing the lotion onto her while either Tom or Diane looked on. I spread the sunscreen lotion on her back, and after a while she suggested I do her legs. While I concentrated on the back of her legs—and not getting an erection—I heard Diane and Tom return, both laughing about something or other. I didn’t look at them, instead keeping my focus where it was, on Brenda’s fabulous body. That was about the time she turned over.
“Now, this side,” she said, grinning mischievously. I began working on her midsection, and probably staying too long there, for she purred, “It’s okay, Greg, you can do my tits. You don’t want them to burn, do you?”
“No, that would be a tragedy,” I said with a poor attempt at humor, trying to conceal my nervousness. I suppressed the urge to glance at Tom to see if he was watching. I certainly didn’t want to know if Diane was watching.
“Ah, yes it would. Ahhhhh that’s better,” she murmured as I kneaded her breasts, nearly forgetting the sunscreen lotion. She then said, “Lower…,” and I did just that, working down her belly and doing her legs. It turned out I wasn’t the only one going “lower,” as she’d slipped a hand up the leg of my shorts and grabbed my cock. My semi-stiffness turned to full rigidity as she stroked. With one hand rubbing my cock, Brenda used the other to untie her bikini bottoms at the side. “I need sunscreen there too,” she cooed, forcing my lotion-coated hand down to her bald pubis.
Her pussy didn’t get much sunscreen, though my probing fingers soon were wet from another source. We were masturbating each other in earnest when I heard Diane yelp “Oh” several times in succession. I glanced over my shoulder and froze. Diane was topless as well, lying on the lounger with her legs spread wide. Tom was kneeling at the foot of the reclined patio chair and had his face buried in my wife’s crotch. Her nipples looked exceedingly stiff from my vantage point. Holy shit!
I muttered “Jesus” at the spectacle of my wife’s cunt being eaten by another man. The thought that I had my fingers in that man’s wife’s pussy meant nothing at the moment. Tom had pulled the small strip of cloth aside and was tonguing and licking Diane, while she continued to yelp every time he nailed her clit.
Brenda whispered, “Hey sport, over here. Don’t worry about them. I want you…let her do what she wants. You do what you want…what I want.”
The term, ‘mixed emotions’ didn’t even come close to explaining what was going on inside my head at that moment. I’d enjoyed the fringe benefits of tapping an erotic dynamo all summer, but now my wife was letting this woman’s husband suck her clit, something she definitely loved. Usually, Diane would cum quickly if I sucked her clit just right. Would she do the same with Tom? I really didn’t want to know, though I was certain to find out very soon. Brenda slid my swim shorts down around my knees and moved to suck my cock. I didn’t stop her, even as the interval between Diane’s cries of joy grew shorter.
Brenda was doing her usual splendid job. I probably would have cum from the blow-job if a corner of my mind wasn’t imagining Diane with Tom across the patio.
Brenda uttered, “Okay, big guy, it’s time to put that thing to work on little ol’ me.”
“But…Tom…my wife…what about them?” I replied, which was silly since my shorts were practically off and my cock was erect for all to see.
She whispered, “What about them? They’re not paying attention to us, silly. They’re busy.”
I looked over. Tom was naked and lying back on the lounger. Topless Diane was sitting astride him at thigh level, her back to us. She was obviously stroking Tom’s cock though I couldn’t see it. He moaned; she laughed seductively; I cringed.
Brenda pulled me atop her, grabbed my stiff cock and slid the head between her wet and willing folds. I looked into her baby-blue eyes. I looked down at her breasts, heaving from her labored breathing, with her nipples taut and engorged. I looked at her lips, open, inviting.
I was entranced. I slid the remainder of the way into her and began pumping. She immediately began moaning and whimpering because of my onslaught. While I fucked her, I caught Brenda sneaking glances across the patio. The first time she glimpsed something significant, she reacted with a noticeable swoon. I wasn’t going to glance over there myself. I wasn’t.
But I did.
When my head turned, I saw Diane pull at the last side string of her bikini bottoms and pull them off. She reared up on her knees, revealing Tom’s cock to me for the first time. It was very long, and quite upright. Diane scooted forward a little and eased herself down on Tom’s shaft. She took him in to the hilt. I couldn’t look anymore. Besides, Brenda urged me to get back into rhythm.
I pushed the other sight out of my mind and concentrated on fucking Brenda as hard as I could. It worked until she snuck another peek over at her husband and my wife, and swooned again, muttering under her breath, “God, they’re beautiful.”
Against all reason, I looked again. Diane wasn’t simply rising and falling on Tom’s pole as she rode him. She was also rhythmically swaying her narrow hips forward and backward, so the sum total of her movements were as sexually stimulating to watch as any porn flick I’ve seen. Since Tom took that moment to shout, “Yeah, baby, you’re the hottest, I’m not gonna last long like this,” and Diane answered with “Me neither!” then I believed they felt the same way.
My eyes were glued to them, but by this time Brenda didn’t seem to care. She began to have those tiny orgasmic wavelets sweep through her, defining her vaginal climax. I was still watching the other two when Diane went wild, up and down in such fury that even her small, firm tits were bouncing crazily. She leaned over and met Tom’s hands, which now held her tits firmly as she writhed in pre-orgasmic ecstasy.
I can’t explain the thoughts going through my mind just then, but they triggered the most amazing orgasm I’d ever had. I pumped load after load of semen deep into Brenda. When I thought I was done cumming, my cock amazingly spurted three or four more ropes.
I fell to lay beside Brenda, the two of us inexorably drawn to watch our spouses consummate their coupling. Brenda whispered, “Don’t they look great together?”
I whispered back, “How can you ask that? Doesn’t it make you jealous?”
“No, silly, I love to see Tom have fun like this. We both know what we like and we allow each other a chance to have it.”
“You mean he knows about us?”
“Of course he does. I would think you’d have figured it out by now, Greg.”
My wife was cumming. She impaled herself one last time, shook all over, threw hear head back, and wailed loudly enough I was sure every neighbor heard her. Tom bellowed that he was too. Diane jumped off, grabbed his glistening-wet broomstick, and said, “Oh, Tom, cum on me like you usually do. I wanna feel your hot cum all over me!”
“Ah, come on,” Brenda said. “You didn’t realize we’d been with Diane already?”
“What does that mean?” I asked stupidly.
“It means that the first time I met you and saw your wife, I knew she was Tom’s type and he’d love to fuck her. After the first time you and I got it on, Tom arranged to walk by your house while Diane was outside and you weren’t home. My husband has a way with the ladies. He told me that he hooked her that first day. I think they fucked like two days later. She loves his cock, you know. She told me that she liked them long but not too thick like yours. To each their own, if you ask me. I mean, thicker is better in my book, but she just loves Tom’s dick.”
“So while I’ve been fucking you, Tom’s been fucking her?”
“Well, yes, but it’s really been the three of us.”
“Oh yeah, you think Tom’s the only one that’s hooked on how hot your wife is? Damn, the first time I licked her pussy and she squirted all over me I nearly died. I think I love making love to her as much as Tom does.”
“How many times has she been over here?” I asked, still unbelieving.
“Oh, about the same as you,” she replied.
That’s when Tom and Diane approached us. The entire scene remained surreal to me; looking at my wife all aglow with a megawatt smile, holding hands with Tom, his spent cock swinging pendulously, still glimmeringly wet from being inside my wife moments ago.
“How about hitting the hot tub, you two?” Tom asked, at the same time placing his arm around Diane and pulling her closer. Brenda, while squeezing one of my ass cheeks, said yes, I supposed for both of us, though I was too angry to speak.
When Diane asked, “Are you having fun, Greg?” I wasn’t sure who I wanted to punch first. I wouldn’t have had the chance anyway, for she stepped away from Tom, walked up to me and planted a whopper of a kiss on me, tongue action included, while pressing her still engorged, rigid nipples into my chest. When she pulled her lips away, she said, “I am.”
Tom pulled off its cover, and fired up the hot tub. The girls refilled glasses, and then with one on either side of me, urged me into the tub. Being generally speechless throughout, I didn’t see any reason to change. With many emotions swirling around inside me, I began to think in terms of what this looked like—suburban swinging. With the four of us in the hot tub, Tom with Diane and Brenda sitting with me, I imagined future scenarios much as today. We’d get together once in a while. Diane would fuck Tom, and I would fuck Brenda (in her ass!) Otherwise, life would be normal.
Soon, I knew I was wrong.
Diane kept up a steady conversation with both Tom and Brenda. She seemed to know everything about them. Personal stuff was discussed as if I wasn’t there. Beneath the roiling water, I could tell that Diane was stroking Tom’s cock. His expressions indicated he was appreciative of my wife’s efforts. I tried to do the same with Brenda, sliding my hand between her thighs, but she hardly reacted and kept talking.
At one point in the conversation, Tom said, “Christ, honey, don’t you ever get enough of me?”
Diane cooed, “If I had my way…”
Brenda chuckled and jumped in with, “Yeah, she’d kick me out and have you all to herself.”
I thought, ‘honey?’
Diane turned to Brenda, “Now, why would I do that to the most talented tongue in the neighborhood?” Everyone laughed at that, except me. I was well past emotional overload; hearing Tom’s words of endearment with my wife, hearing Diane’s implication of neighborhood-wide sexual knowledge, and hearing that Brenda wasn’t as enamored with my lovemaking skills as I so naively thought.
Diane ended up practically in Tom’s lap, breathing hard, and nipples harder. Tom seemed conflicted for a few moments, but then looked at me, said, “Sorry, man, but I gotta take care of your woman,” and picked Diane up into his arms as he stood. He climbed out, carrying my aroused wife with ease, and walked into the house, leaving a trail of dripping water.
Brenda turned to me and said, “You’re not okay with any of this, are you?”
I managed to mutter “No.”
“Grow up. You were perfectly okay with balling me whenever you wanted. Why can’t your wife do the same?” She shook her head, and sputtered “Men!” before sliding up against me in the hot tub, saying, “Maybe you just don’t like being neglected.”
She stroked my cock underwater, as Diane had done to Tom earlier, and in seconds I was rod-stiff. She urged me up to sit on the tubs rim, turned her ass to me and sat on my lap. Yes, impaled on my lap is a better description. I don’t know how she does it, but like previous times she took my cock into her asshole with no lubrication, no preparation—simply ‘pop,’ and I was in there. She bounced like a madwoman, her frantic pace faltering only when we heard Diane’s orgasmic scream echo through the house. Brenda came seconds later and then it was my turn.
There was no after-play. I tried to snuggle and kiss her, but her mind wasn’t there, it was in her bedroom. After a few minutes, with the other two not rejoining us, Brenda climbed out of the spa saying, “I’m going to join them. You coming?”
She toweled off a bit, and not waiting for me, followed Tom’s wet footprints into the house. I’d just had sex, though this time was certainly less than fulfilling. I sat in the bubbling water for a minute or two then decided I may as well head into the house as well.
Not knowing the home’s layout, I followed the sound coming from upstairs. At the bedroom door I watched three wet bodies fucking. My wife was on hands and knees while Tom did her doggie, her head down between Brenda’s spread thighs, licking hungrily. Everything was a blur. I’ve read the description of somebody being “glassy-eyed,” and that fit Diane’s expression perfectly. Tom alternated between rapid thrusts and long, slow ones, his cock glistening from the moisture my wife’s vagina was bathing it in. Diane was having difficulty concentrating on Brenda’s cunt, since she was obviously about to climax.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH…” she groaned loudly, as her body shook in uncontrollable orgasmic spasms, her face buried in Brenda’s bald pussy.
Tom shouted, “Sweet Jesus, you…sure…draw…it…out…of…me,” pulling out and unloading a prodigious amount of ejaculate all over my wife’s trembling back and ass cheeks. Spent, he fell back to the bed and watched my wife and his continue their lovemaking. That’s when he saw me. “Hey, Greg. Have you ever known two hotter women?”
“Once or twice,” I answered. Maybe the ‘once’ was the Diane I used to know, and let slip away.
Brenda cried out, “Yes, baby, yes! Suck it…suck it…OHHHH!” Her hips trembled. She was cumming.
The three of them hugged each other in post-coital contentment. I was ignored. Forgotten.
I had to get used to it.
My marriage as I knew it was over.
No, we didn’t divorce. Diane and I stayed married, though only as a convenience. Tom, Brenda, Diane and another single neighbor named Alice became what they called the “open marriage.” No, this wasn’t swinging. I remained left out, except for an occasional dip into Brenda’s insatiable anus. The only ‘benefit’ I had was getting to watch them every so often. Like Diane, Alice was a petite whirlwind who loved to spin on Tom’s beanpole. I had fantasies of fucking Alice but she never let me get close. Watching the women together was a real treat, and I must admit to jerking off occasionally to that memory.
True to my nature, I met and bedded other women.
I never let any of them meet Tom or Brenda.
Part of my inspiration in writing this work of fiction came from two earlier stories published on ASSTR: "Summer Heat" (©2002) by Alden Bradley, and "Heat Wave" (©2007) by Stevesaint. Please look for these and read them if you haven't yet done so. As an author, I'd like to think my work is sufficiently original, but faithful readers will be the ultimate judges. As usual, all feedback is welcome.
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