He Paid Money To Fuck My Wife

Title: The Bittersweet Symphony of Shared Bliss

The sun was setting, casting a warm glow through the curtains of our dimly lit living room. I was sprawled on the couch, a cold beer in hand as I watched the waves crash upon the shore from the large bay window. The salty sea breeze wafted in, mingling with the faint scent of my wife’s perfume in the air. I knew she was getting ready upstairs, donning a sexy little number for our special guest. My heart was racing with anticipation, a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling in my gut.

The doorbell rang, snapping me out of my stream of consciousness. I took a deep breath and rose from my seat, padding softly to the door. As I swung it open, there he stood – tall, handsome, a devilish grin etched upon his chiseled face. Jack, my best friend since childhood, looked dashing in a crisp button-down and slacks. He held a bouquet of red roses in one hand, a bottle of fine wine in the other.

“Ready for this, buddy?” he asked, his voice dripping with barely contained anticipation. I managed a nod, leading him inside as my wife descended the stairs, her long legs glistening under the skintight red dress that clung to her every curve.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Jack purred, his eyes drinking in the sight of her. She smiled coyly, running a hand through her long blonde hair.

“Hello, Jack. I hope you’re ready for the night of your life,” she purred, linking her arm with his. My heart skipped a beat – it was happening. The secret fantasy we had discusses once, in hushed tones, when we lay entangled in sweat and blissful afterglow, was now becoming a reality.

“I’m going to make love to you tonight,” she whispered in his ear, her voice sending shivers down my spine. “And I hope you’re going to make me forget my own name once you fill me up.”

As they moved towards the stairs, she turned to me, her eyes burning with lust. “Honey, why don’t you join us?” she cooed, crooking a finger my way. “I want to see you while he splits me open with that thick cock.”

I followed in a daze, my member pulsing with need. We entered the bedroom, she sat on the bed, slipping her dress off in one fluid motion. Her breasts bounced free, the dusky nipples hard with arousal. Jack stepped closer, running a hand through her silky strands as he claimed her mouth in a searing kiss. I watched in awe, my own cock aching as she tangled her tongue with his, their moans filling the air.

He unzipped his slacks, his thick, veiny shaft springing free. She gasped, wrapping her fingers around his impressive girth. “Fuck, you’re huge,” she mewed, stroking him slowly. He groaned, guiding her head down to taste him. She licked a bead of pre-cum from the tip, her eyes locking with mine.

“Come over here and suck our cocks,” she commanded, her voice breathless with lust. I stumbled forward, my knees weak with desire. I knelt beside the bed, taking his shaft into my mouth as she continued to pump him. The taste of his skin, the scent of her arousal – it was almost too much.

She pushed him down on the bed, his thick cock bobbing enticingly. She straddled his hips, rolling her tongue over his tip before sinking down. I watched, mesmerized, as he stretched her open, her tight walls gripping him like a vise. “Fuck, you feel incredible,” he grunted, grasping her hips.

“You like watching me get plowed, baby?” she gasped, bouncing on his cock with abandon. I nodded, stroking myself as I watched the lewd display. She was so wet, the obscene sounds of their flesh slapping filling the air. I leaned in, kissing her shoulder, my tongue tracing the sweat beading on her skin.

I pressed my cock between her ass cheeks as she rode Jack, our moans mingling. He pushed a finger into my tight hole as he pounded her, and I cried out, the sensation foreign yet exhilarating. “You’re so tight,” he growled, adding another digit. I bucked against her, the coil of pleasure winding tighter in my core.

“I’m going to cum,” she sobbed, her walls fluttering around Jack’s thick cock. He slammed into her, burying himself to the hilt as he spilled inside her. I stroked myself feverishly, my own release barreling towards me. I came with a shout, my seed spilling over her back, a portrait of our depravity.

We lay in a tangle of sweaty limbs, hearts pounding as we caught our breath. She looked at me, her eyes soft with love and satisfaction. “Thank you for this,” she whispered, kissing me deeply. “You’re the best husband a girl could ask for.”

And as I drifted off to sleep, spooning her as Jack slept on the other side, I knew that despite the taboo nature of our tryst, our marriage was stronger. This was a fantasy fulfilled, a bond forged in the fires of desire and mutual trust.