Why I let someone fuck my wife for the first time
“Don’t get angry, Brad,” said my wife, Angie.
We were lying in bed, taking it easy, as we always did on Sundays. I was half-asleep, Angie was reading a magazine. She had stopped, put her magazine down and put her hand on my chest. As always, her touch produced an instant reaction in me. I felt my cock begin to stir and even though we had made love three times the night before, I felt the lust rising inside me.
But before I could stir myself, Angie said that there was something that she wanted to say to me and that I shouldn’t get angry.
“This sounds ominous,” I replied.
“It’s not. It’s…it’s kind of weird. Something I want to confess.”
“Oh, confessions are good,” I said, smiling and leaning over to kiss her on the neck. I knew she loved that and at the same time, I slid my hand along her thigh, under the silk of her gown.
“Oh, that feels so good,” she whispered. But then she composed herself, moved my hand and told me that she was serious, that she had something to say.
“Okay,” I replied, sitting up on the pillows. “Shoot.”
“It’s a fantasy of mine. One I’ve had for a long time.”
“Cool,” I said, smiling.
“You have to understand, I love you Brad. You know that don’t you.”
“Yes, of course,” I replied. I had never doubted it for a second in the ten years we had been together. Our marriage was rock solid, we were soul mates, lovers, best friends and I never wanted to spend any time with anyone other than Angie.
“Well, I…I want to fuck someone else.”
Her words hit me like a hammer.
“Please hear me out. I don’t want an affair. I don’t want to betray you or leave you. I don’t want us to have one of those threesome relationships. I want to fuck someone else.”
I stared at the wall. I hadn’t seen this coming. What had I done wrong? Was I too selfish? Immediately I felt guilty and my cock, which had been rock hard, shrank.
“But I want you to watch,” she said, softly, her brown eyes gazing up at me.
“You want me to…watch?”
“Yes,” she said, smiling, putting her hand on my chest again.
* * * *
There was a lot to think about and I spent the next few days doing just that. This fantasy of my wife’s was completely out of left field. She had never mentioned it before, and she had always been pretty open about what turned her on. It just didn’t make any sense.
I wondered if she had already started an affair. Perhaps this was her way of being open about infidelity so that I wouldn’t mind. If that was what was going on, she would surely mention a particular guy she had in mind. But as the week passed, she didn’t say anything. In fact, she didn’t raise the subject again. In some idle moments, I wondered whether I had imagined the whole thing.
But the strangest and most disconcerting thing of all was the fact that the idea hadn’t turned me off. In fact, as she had talked about it, I felt my cock get rock hard. The next time we made love, that night, I was harder than ever. So, what did that say about me? I found the idea of watching my wife being fucked by another man exciting. It turned me on. What was wrong with me?
“Okay,” I said, a few days later, as we were eating lunch.
“Okay?” she said, looking at me with a smile. “You mean it?”
“You know what I’m talking about?” I asked. She nodded and smiled. It had clearly been on her mind all this time. Inside I felt a pang of jealousy. But at the same time, there was also a rush of excitement. It was so wrong. It defied everything I had grown up to believe in about the sanctity of marriage. I was going to let my wife fuck another man. I couldn’t believe it was actually going to happen.
* * * *
“I’ve found him,” said Angie a few days later.
“Mmm?” I replied, absent-mindedly, watching the game.
“Him,” she said, with a smile and a raised eyebrow.
“Oh,” I replied, flicking off the television. A surge of worry and jealousy and lust washed over me. This was scary and wrong and exciting, all at the same time.
“His name is Connor. He’s a friend of Libby’s. She says he’s stupid and boring but fit and would definitely be up for it. Would you like to meet him?”
“No!” I replied, without thinking.
“Hey, okay,” said Angie, smiling. “Relax, honey. If you don’t want to do this, we won’t, no problem. You have to be okay with it. If you’re not, I will drop it and never mention it again, I promise.”
“No, it’s okay. I…I’m just not sure that
I want to actually meet him. That would be pretty weird.”
“That’s cool,” she said, smiling. “You don’t have to. But if you’re going to watch him, then you’re going to have to see him at some time.”
“I know,” I said, frowning. This was all so confusing.
“I’ve got it,” she said, clapping her hands. “You could hide in the wardrobe. We could make a hole in it and you could watch through there.”
I thought about it. It was weird, but not as weird as meeting the man who was going to fuck my wife.
“Okay,” I said.
* * * *
So that was how, the next Saturday night, I found myself kneeling in the wardrobe of our bedroom, on a pile of cushions that Angie had arranged to make it comfortable. I was more or less naked, wearing just my shorts, at Angie’s request. I even had beers to drink. It was like watching a show, only this one featured my wife getting fucked by a stranger.
As part of the experience, I had watched her dress. As she slipped into her slinky black dress and her sheer stockings, she teased me mercilessly and my cock was so hard I thought I would explode. She was so hot, and I loved her so much.
Connor was on time, even a little early, but then if I was him, I would definitely be early. I heard them talking downstairs and tried to imagine what was happening. Every time Angie laughed; I felt a pang of jealousy. Part of me wanted to jump out of the wardrobe and end this. But I didn’t.
After what felt like hours, I heard footsteps on the stairs. The bedroom door opened. Angie came in first, leading Connor by the hand. He was young, maybe early twenties, and clearly worked out a lot. Again, jealousy gripped me by the throat. But I told myself that Angie loved me, that I was doing this for her. I watched as she sat on the edge of our bed and undressed him. She gasped when she pulled out his cock, that was already as hard as mine. As she wrapped her fingers around it, I reached down and began to stroke my own, biting my lip as pleasure surged through me.
Connor’s wide-eyed expression grew wider as Angie began to work her magic, slipping his cock into her mouth, working his shaft with her slender fingers, letting him fuck her mouth, bobbing her head back and forth to take him in over and over.
Soon, she pulled away, gasping, smiling and climbed onto the bed, getting up on her hands and knees, facing directly at the wardrobe. I felt a shiver of fear, of jealousy and of sheer lust. Connor, tearing off his clothes, climbed up onto the bed behind her. I watched Angie’s pretty face, her eyes open wide, and then the look of surprise on her face as he penetrated her. That look and her gasps soon subsided into lust and pleasure. She closed her eyes as he fucked her.
“Oh, fuck yes, fuck me hard. Fuck me just like my husband!” she cried, and as she did so, she stared directly at where she knew I was watching. I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed my cock harder and began to stroke, watching this stranger with his hands all over my wife. He grabbed her hips and I could see his face contorting with the effort as he violated her pussy, using my wife, fucking her hard and making her shake and shiver and squirm and cry out.
She began to spasm into her orgasm just as Connor reached the end. He gasped and nearly cried out as he came inside her and she screamed her lust, collapsing onto our bed. She seemed lost in the moment, but then, just as I reached my own orgasm, she looked up at me, licked her lips and blew me a kiss and in that moment, I loved her with a depth that I had never felt before.