Wife Makes Out on Couch

By Gustav Jorgenson

Excerpted from “What’s My Wife Doing With That Guy?

My wife Sarah invited her friend Tom over for dinner one night and we all had a few drinks together in the living room afterward.  Sarah and Tom sat together on the couch while I sat in my easy chair across from them and I noticed them inching closer and closer together the drunker we all got.  Pretty soon they were nudged right up against one another and finding excuses to touch each other’s arm or leg over and over again.  I was a little embarrassed because I could sense the sexual tension between them and I felt an odd pang when Sarah made an exaggerated point at laughing at all of Tom’s jokes.

“Boy, you guys are getting quite, uh, comfy there on the couch,” I commented, taking a sip of my Merlot.

“Aren’t we though?” laughed my wife, throwing an arm around Tom’s back and putting her head on his shoulder.  She batted her eyelashes at me to tease me and I just gulped with jealousy but couldn’t think of a witty reply.

“Of course, it’s perfectly harmless, John,” said Tom, as he casually draped his arm across my wife’s shoulder so that they sat arm in arm across from me.

“Sure, but, you know,” I said lamely, which made my wife giggle and lift her head off of Tom’s chest.

“John, look at you, you are getting jealous,” she chuckled, pointing a tipsy finger of accusation at me.

“No, I’m not, I’m not,” I insisted , putting my glass down with a clunk and waving my hands at them defensively.  “You know me, I’m not like that.”

“I think you’re jealous that I’ve been paying so much attention to Tom all night,” said Sarah, turning to gaze at Tom with frank admiration.  “I know I’ve been a terribly open about my crush on him.”

“I’m not, uh, what?  A crush?”  I stammered.  I looked helplessly at Tom who started blushing deeply as he avoided my gaze.

“But you’re not jealous,” said my wife tugging the hem of her dress down and putting her hands on her knees primly.

“No, no,” I agreed, feeling slightly sick to my stomach.

“Of course, Sarah and I are just good friends, nothing to be jealous of,” said Tom looking at my wife searchingly.

“Right, obviously,” I said, forcing a wry smile.

“So you wouldn’t mind if I gave Tom a friendly kiss?” asked my wife.  She kept her tone neutral and gazed at me placidly while I squirmed in my seat.”

“I mean, well, a kiss?” I asked.  I rubbed my mouth as I worried about her level of drunkenness.  Was she serious?

“Sure, just a friendly smooch.   Since you aren’t jealous,” she said, struggling not to smile.

“I mean, you almost sound like you WANT me to be jealous,” I said.  I tried to manufacture a convincing laugh.

“Not at all dear, why would I?” asked Sarah, putting her hand to chest dramatically.  “I just find it odd that you wouldn’t feel a bit of jealousy when I show some interest in another man.  Do you think my days as a sexual being are over?”

“Oh jeez, not this argument again.  Of course you are still a sexual being, you are only forty after all,” I said.  I hated when she got like this.  She was so insecure about growing older.

“I think you are very sexy,” offered Tom.  He looked pointedly at my wife’s boobs and it was her turn to color slightly.

“Well then, give me a little kiss Tom,” she said puckering her lips and closing her eyes.

“But that’s, you know, kind of pushing it,” I said weakly.

“I’ll just give her a quick peck,” said Tom, taking my wife into his arms easily.  Their lips touched tentatively for a moment, then Sarach wrapped her arms around him and pressed her mouth fiercely again Tom’s.

“Um, really Sarah?” I asked, feeling annoyed.  She was deliberately trying to make jealous for some reason.  Of course I was fucking jealous to see her kissing this guy right on the lips after fawning over him all night.  But something rebelled within me and I refused to openly admit it.  I just sat watching in fascination as Tom and my wife kissed more and more passionately on the couch in front of me.  They twisted their faces back and forth as their tongues flicked between their mouths and I could feel my penis starting to swell even as the anger and jealousy rose within me.  Tom’s hand slid down to rest on one of Sarah’s protruding breasts and she moaned in pleasure in response.

“Uh, easy there buddy,” I said, but they just ignored me.

Sarah reached down and started rubbing the lump in the crotch of Tom’s pants and I yelped indignantly.  “Sarah, for Chrissake!  What are you doing?  Are you touching his goddamn penis?”

Sarah and Tom broke away from each other and my wife gave me a bleary look, guilty and muddled by drink.  “Oh shit, sorry.  Yes, I was rubbing Tom’s penis a little,” she admitted, gritting her teeth in contrition.

“And he was feeling up your boob!” I exclaimed, feeling strangely excited at the thought.  “Of course I’m going to feel jealous when you do stuff like that.”

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry honey,” she said, edging away from Tom on the couch ever so slightly as she leaned forward toward me.  “We got a bit carried away there for a moment.”

“I’ll say,” I agreed, nodding my head vigorously.  “I mean, penis touching.”

“And boob squeezing,” said Sarah, glancing over at Tom and touching her breasts.  “Not very appropriate for a married woman, I admit.”

“But, you know, just harmless fun really,” said Tom, reaching down to wrestle with protrusion between his legs while Sarah looked on with interest.

“Harmless, ha, yeah, well I don’t really feel comfortable when my wife grabs another fellow’s johnson while he’s pinching her breasts,” I said.  My own penis growing more and more engorged with blood as I thought about the incident.

“Are you still hard?” blurted Sarah as she watched Tom handling his boner through his slacks.

“Sarah!” I said, aghast at how excited my wife was getting over Tom’s penis.

“What?  His penis was really really stiff when I touched it just now,” said Sarah, putting on an innocent face.

“I’m sure it was, you two were really going at it,” I said, worried that my wife might see the erection growing in my own pants.  “You definitely succeeded in making me jealous.”

“But Tom said it was just harmless fun,” said Sarah.  She paused and looked at me seriously.  “I mean what harm can come if I touch Tom’s penis a little bit?”

“Uh, what do you mean?” I asked, growing flustered.  She must be have been drunk as hell at that point.

“It sure didn’t harm me,” said Tom with a toothy grin.

“Of course, as a husband, I don’t like to see that,” I said lamely.  “I mean, Sarah’s my wife.”

“Aren’t I still your wife?” asked Sarah.  “Even after touching Tom’s penis?”

“Well of course,” I sputtered, not liking where this was going.

“It’s not as though you would divorce me just for grabbing another man’s equipment,” coaxed Sarah, examining me shrewdly.

“Divorce? Of course not.  Don’t be ridiculous,” I chuckled awkwardly.  “It’s just, you know, it’s upsetting.”

“It upsets you to watch us making each other happy?” asked my wife pointedly.  “I mean, how does it hurt you if Tom and I give each other a little pleasure?”  She reached out boldly and grabbed Tom’s bulge again.  “I like how hard Tom’s penis is.  It’s making me excited.”

“Sarah, you are drunk, darling,” I said.  “Maybe we should ask Tom to go.”

“I don’t want to cause any problems, but I don’t want to go either,” said Tom simply.  He looked at Sarah and not at me.  “Maybe we should take this into the bedroom.”

“I agree,” agreed Sarah.  She climbed unsteadily to her feet and hauled Tom up using both hands.

“Erm, the bedroom?” I asked incredulously.  Sarah took Tom by the hand and lead him down the hall toward our bedroom.

I sat there in a daze for a moment, unable to believe what was happening.  My wife and her guy friend were getting ready to go get it on in our bedroom as though it were a perfectly harmless.  Just two people pleasuring each other.  Why would her husband object to that?

“Honey, come on!” called Sarah from the other room.  “Aren’t you joining us?”

I snapped to my senses and climbed out of my chair stiffly.  “This is fucking ludicrous, Sarah,” I called, my knees creaking from sitting still for so long as I hurried down the hall.  When I got to the bedroom, I found Sarah and Tom already half-undressed.  The bedroom was dark except for a slim beam of light that escaped from the closet, the door slightly ajar.  As my eyes adjusted I could see my wife in the dim light standing in her bra and panties.  Tom already had his shirt and pants off and was standing in his boxers.  His stiff penis formed a lewd bulge in his shorts.  “Jesus fuck, Sarah.  What are you doing?” I gasped.

“You don’t need to get so upset, dear,” she said soothingly as she took off her bra and unfettered her lovely breasts.

“Wow,” said Tom, gazing at my wife’s bare breasts.

“Do you like them?” asked Sarah bashfully, pinching her nipples to make them hard for Tom.

“Sarah, you can’t just take your top off in front of another man like this,” I said, struggling to find the right words.

“I know this must be making you jealous, dear,” she said sympathetically.  “But look how excited Tom is.”  She bent over and yanked Tom’s underwear down, freeing his stiff boner which popped out and stood proudly at attention.

“Yeah, I don’t think he’s going to be really sympathetic to that,” mumbled Tom, eying my wife’s body.  “Take your panties off and get on the bed.”

“Ok,” agreed Sarah.  She slid her panties off, exposed her bush for him and climbing onto the bed.

“Sarah, what the hell?” I asked, standing by impotently while Tom climbed up onto the bed next to my wife and started sucking on one of her nipples.

Sarah gasped with pleasure and reached down to yank Tom’s dick.

“What did you say, dear?” she asked me.

“Look at you,” I said, gesturing helplessly as my wife gave Tom a handjob and he sucked on her tits.  “You guys are practically fucking over there.”

“Just let us try something,” she said.  A thrill ran through me as I watched my wife throw back her head back while Tom slipped his hand between her legs and started fingering her clitoris.  

“Tom, are you really going to finger my wife like this right in front of me?” I demanded.  I felt as though I should intervene somehow, but I didn’t know what to do. Should I grab Tom and pull him off my wife?  That seemed sort of extreme somehow.

“Hold on, dear, hold that thought,” grunted my wife as she bent down and started sucking Tom’s dick lustily.  

He looked me in the eye and sighed with satisfaction while my wife’ head bobbed up and down on his cock.  “Let us do our thing, John.  Just go with it.”

“Go with it, Tom?   Go with it?  What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I asked, waving my arms feebly.

Sarah unfastened her mouth from Tom’s erect penis and rolled over onto her stomach.  She looked up at me innocently as she lifted her ass and offered her pussy to Tom.  “Is it OK if Tom fucks me a little?” she asked, her voice raspy with arousal.

“A little? A little?” I demanded pacing back and forth.  My own prick stiff as a board in my pants as Tom got on his knees behind my woman and lined his dick up with his cunt.  “How do you fuck ‘just a little?’”

“Here, I’ll show you,” said Tom and he grabbed my wife’s hips and slowly eased his cock into her.  Sarah whimpered with pleasure.

“Oh yes, oh yes, that’s good,” she moaned.  “Don’t make us stop, now, John.  What’s done is done.  Try to understand.”

“I understand that I’m standing here watching my wife get fucked by another guy,” I said, feeling my dick swell painfully.  “I’m pretty sure that’s not something you are supposed to do.”

“I guess that’s true,” admitted Tom as he started humping my wife harder and harder and eliciting louder and louder grunts of pleasure from her.  “But sometime it’s good to be bad.”

“It’s definitely good to be bad, oh god,” gasped my wife.

“What’s the matter?” I asked my wife with concern.

“I’m just dicking her really good,” grunted Tom as he slammed his cock into my wife over and over again.

“I’m coming, I”m coming, hold my hand,” cried my wife, reaching out to me pleadingly.

“What?” I asked, taken aback,

“Hold my hand,” she begged, looking up at me plaintively, sweat flowing down her rosy cheeks.

“Oh shit,” I said, bending down and grabbing my wife’s outstretched hand as she ducked her head with Tom stabbing his cock in and out of her repeatedly.  “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”  Then I felt my wife shudder as she reach climax.

“Ah yeah, I felt that,” said Tom with satisfaction.  “My turn, my turn, look out John, stand back,” Tom pulled out of my wife, jumped from the bed and pushed me aside roughly.

“Hey, what are you doing?” I cried, nearly falling over in my drunken state.

“Blowing my wad, you fool,” he cursed, jerking in dick in my wife’s face while she opened her mouth obediently to receive his ejaculation.  I watched in sick fascination as Tom’s penis erupted with semen and spat forth glob after glob of sticky jizz into my wife’s waiting mouth and onto her rosy cheeks.

She giggled and latched her mouth onto his dong so she could finish him off.

“Nice, nice. That’s just wonderful,” I said when Tom pulled his dick out of my wife’s mouth gingerly.

“Oh, come on, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” he asked, slapping me on the shoulder good naturedly as he looked around for his pants.

“I admit we got carried away,” said my wife, licking some of Tom’s spew from her chin.  “But it felt really good to get fucked by a different man after all these years.  You aren’t terribly hurt, are you darling?”

“I’m just numb right now, I don’t know how to feel,” I said.

“Hey, now, you should be happy for us,” said Tom as he finished dressing.  “At least we let you watch this time.”

“What do you mean, this time?” I asked, stunned.

“Oops, never mind.  See you later, Sarah,” and Tom rushed from the room.

“Sarah, what did he mean by ‘this time?’” I asked my wife.

“Oh, honey, that’s just, uh, a figure of speech,” said my wife, avoiding my gaze guiltily.

And I just looked at her in shock as the realization sank in slowly.

Gustav Jorgenson’s cuckold stories:
NEW! Slut Wife, Happy Life: Naughty Wife Tales, also avaailabe as an audiobook.
Exhibitionist Wife Tales: 15 stories of wives cheating in public
Most Popular collection: Gustav’s Selected Shorts
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Wife Fucks Husband’s Rival at Company Party

By Gustav Jorgenson

Excerpted from “Slut Wife, Happy Life

I never liked these monthly birthday dinners that my company throws.  First of all, it seems like a waste of money to have these catered events every month.  And secondly, I spend ENOUGH time around my coworkers, I don’t want to have to see them after business hours.  Not to mention the fact that everyone always drinks too much and people are constantly making fools of themselves.  But the absolute worst thing about last month’s dinner was when my rival, Jake Steuben was seated at the same table with my wife Cathy and I.

Steuben or Stew as he insists on being called is one of those big, burly types who succeeds in the business world due to charisma and sheer aggression as opposed to those who have talent such as myself.  It absolutely infuriated me that such a numbskull got promoted to manager while I sat languishing with the measly title of “Team Lead.”

Of course Cathy was totally unsympathetic once she met Stew because he was such a charmer around women.

At one point, I was refusing to laugh at a joke that Stew had cracked about some recently deceased celebrity and my wife started teasing me about it.  She turned to the young Vietnamese woman Trinh from accounting who was also at the table.  “Trinh, I think Norman is jealous of Stew.  What do you think?”

“Of definitely.  Very jealous,” giggled Trinh, giving me a smile to take the edge off of her teasing.  “Stew is so much BIGGER than Norman.”

“He really is, isn’t it?” said my wife.  She turned to admire Stew’s physique as he expanded his broad chest proudly.

“It’s all hard work ladies,” said Stew with a smirk on his big strong jawed mug.  “Feel that.”  He offered my wife a bicep to examine.

My wife eagerly gripped Stew’s huge bulging muscle.  She wasn’t even able to get her two small white hands around it as she squeezed it in admiration.  “Oh my gosh, Norman.  He’s huge and hard,” my wife told me.  She was drunk at that point and had that shiny, devilish look she gets sometimes.

“Yeah, that’s wonderful,” I sighed.  I took another drink and slinked down in my seat.  The fact was, I always was thin and scrawny.  I always relied on my brains to get by in life and never paid much attention to physical fitness.  Weightlifting was for jocks and idiots in my mind.  Not to mention that I too lazy to go to the gym much.

“Dude, your wife likes how BIG and HARD I am,” Stew told me.  He was wagging his eyebrows at me as my wife clung resolutely to his massive bicep.

“What ELSE you got is big and hard, stew?” asked Trinh.  She and my wife broke out tittering nervously.  Trinh was normally such a quiet and reserved girl, I was shocked at her behavior.  But her red cheeks offered a clue.  She just couldn’t handle her liquor very well.

“I can’t show YOU, Trinh, I might get in trouble with HR,” said Stew.  “But I could show Cathy later.”  He gave me a lewd wink as my wife cackled with laughter.

“I’m game!” put in Cathy.  She just wouldn’t let go of Stew’s arm.  She leaned back and was practically swinging from it, but he just held it out perfectly straight, showing off his strength as my pretty wife dangled from his ape-like limb.

“Take pictures!” shouted Trinh to my wife gayly.

“Ok, yeah, that’s… that’s not cool,” I said weakly.  Stew and the two women just laughed at my embarrassment.  So I tried to stick up for myself a little bit.  “Muscles aren’t everything you know.  I mean, that’s why we have civilization and tools and whatnot.  We don’t need huge muscles like neanderthal’s anymore.”

“Dude, do you even lift?” joked Stew.

“Actually, darling, didn’t Stew get promoted to manager while you didn’t?” asked my wife.  She was growing more serious and she disengaged from Stew’s big arm so he could put his elbows on the table to hear my response.

“I don’t see what muscles have to do with it,” I said.

“Well, you know, I read this study that showed that the person most trusted during business meetings is the one that can lift the most weight,” my wife told me. One of my wife’s favorite conversational habits was to cite counterintuitive study results.

“IS that true?” asked Trinh in fascination.  She put her chin in her palm and gazed at Stew as though contemplating him in a new light.

“I believe it,” he said with a confident smirk as he took another drink of his whiskey.  “Weak guys just don’t make an impact.”

“Ugh!” I groaned.  I drank my wine and wished I was anywhere else in the world but there.

“So it looks like the laws of the wild still apply,” my wife told me.  “The dominant male rises to the top, even in the business world.”

“I like dominant men,” cooed Trinh.  She was staring at Stew with frank lust in her eyes at that point.

“Yeah, well I like woman, with, you know, more meat and potatoes,” said Stew.  He shot a look at my wife’s knockers.

“You like Cathy’s big boobs and big butt!” shouted Trinh with a laugh.  I shrank down further in mortification at people at the surrounding tables overheard her and looked over at us with knowing grins on their faces.

“Shush, Trinh,” I hissed.

‘It’s true though,” insisted Trinh drunkenly.  “Cathy has big boobs!  I’m jealous.”

“Ok, but try to keep it down a little,” I said, glancing furtively around.

“Everyone can see that your wife is stacked, Normie.  It’s no secret,” laughed Stew.

“I’m glad you noticed,” purred Cathy.  She was sauced up too and she jutted her chest out.  She had a low cut dress on and her white cleavage bulged out enticingly.  Stews eyes ran over my wife’s chest hungrily.

“Can we change the subject now?” I pleaded.

“What’s the matter?  Don’t you like talking about how dominant men get their choice of women?” asked my wife.  She was suppressing a smile, but it cut me when she said that.

“Is that what we are talking about?” I asked nervously.

“Of course,” said Trinh.  “Women get excited by big dominant guys.”

“Honey, you know, I don’t think you should be so jealous.  You are a real man too, you know,” my wife said consolingly.

“Wow, that’s so nice of you to say that,” I replied.  My wife shook her head, impatient with my sarcasm.

“I have an idea,” said Cathy with a sly grin.  “Why don’t you and Stew arm wrestle and whoever wins gets to have their way with me tonight?”

“What kind of stupid idea is that?” I squawked loudly.  Then I cringed as people all around looked over curiously.

“Man, he’s got no sense of humor, does he?” asked Stew shaking his head at me.  “Sad.”

“He knows you would win!” said Trinh excitedly.

“She’s just playing around,” said Stew dismissively.

“Sure, yes, it’s just for fun,” said Cathy.  She licked her lips and glanced indecisively between me as I slumped in shame and Stew with his head held high.

“Don’t be such a pussy, Normie, let’s do this,” offered Stew, and he leaned aggressively across the table,sweeping the plates out of the way and slamming his elbow down, offering his huge palm for me to grip.

“I mean, we know what the outcome will be,” I said.  Other people were watching with interest and whispering amongst themselves at the other tables.

“Well if you forfeit, that would make Stew the winner by default,” said my wife reasonably.  “And he will be able to sample my goods unopposed.  She traced her finger along the crease of her cleavage seductively and Trinh started giggling.

“Cathy!” I complained.  I wanted to get up and drag her out of there, but I also wanted to avoid even MORE of a scene.

“I’m just having a little fun,” grimaced my wife.  “Can’t you play along?”  

“Ahh,” I said.  I looked at Stew and he wagged both eyebrows at me as he sat there in position, waiting for me to arm wrestle him.

“Fate favors the brave,” coaxed my wife.  She patted me on the knee to encourage me.

I was really annoyed with my wife for trying to humiliate me like this, but there was no way out at this point, so I sighed with resignation and leaned forward to take Stew’s hand.  His grip crushed mine and I nearly called out in pain.  But then he pursed his lips and make a face of concern at me as he loosened his grasp.

“Ok, now GO!” shouted Trinh.

I wasn’t even going to try, but Stew just waited.  “Come on, Normie, you never know what you can do unless you try,” he said.  “Give it your best shot.”

I shook my head in frustration but gripped his hand more tightly and put all my strength into it, trying to force his arm down.  Stew gave a grunt of surprise and his arm folded down just inches from the table.  I gave a puff of amazement.  Had I caught him off guard?  How ironic would it be for me to beat the strong man by accident like this?

The girls gasped in shock as well.  “My god man!  You may be skinny, but you are wiry. What a grip!” panted Stew dramatically.

But I soon realized he was teasing me as I proved unable to budge his arm any further.  I even used both hands and tried to stand up and force his arm down.  But he just grinned at me while I struggled for a moment before violently wrenching his wrist over and pinning both my hands down to the table.  My entire body was jerked over and I nearly fell out of my chair.  The women applauded the brute’s victory over me and I heard titters of amusement from the other tables.  Stew shook his clenched palms above his head in celebration.

“And to the victor, goes the spoils,” said Stew.  He snaked an arm over to wrap around my wife’s waist and pulled her bodily over next to him, her chair scraping loudly on the floor as she gasped in surprise.

“Oh, yeah, I like this part,” purred Cathy as the big man crushed her to his side in his strong embrace.

“Ok, yeah, very funny,” I said.  I busied myself with straightening the table as my face burned with shame.

“What you going to do with her?” asked Trinh.  She was gazing at my wife trapped giggling in Stew’s embrace and obviously wished she was in my wife’s place.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe I will have a little of this,” said Stew.  He looked me right in the eye as she reached over and pinched one of my wife’s breasts.

My mouth went dry and I gulped in amazement as I watched the big bully fondling my wife’s boob right there at the company party.

“Omigosh, he’s grabbing your boobie!” laughed Trinh.  She was pointing at my wife and covering her own mouth.

“Hmm, I know, he’s very dominant,” said my wife with satisfaction.  She looked at me with a strange smile.  “Do you see what he’s doing, honey?”

“Yes, I mean, of course.  Stop that, you brute,” I stammered.

“Aww, what’s the matter, buddy?” he asked me.  His eyebrows were raised in the center as he feigned concern for my feelings, but he held my wife’s left tit in his palm as he said it.

“It’s natural for him to want to show his dominance by bedding me,” said my wife.  “It’s fun.  Sex should be fun and playful.  We are just acting out the laws of the wild.”

I was about to answer when I noticed our boss Adam waving to me and coming toward our table.  He had a big drunken grin on his face but it faded as he noticed what Stew was doing to my wife.  He paused in his tracks and stared for a moment before shaking his head abruptly and turning toward a different table.  He forced a smile back onto his face and shifted gears to greet a different group of folks.  My heart was beating a mile a minute at at that point.  This was going to be the talk of the office on Monday for sure.

“Oh wow, this is so kinky, it’s making me hot,” said Trinh.  She was fanning her face with her hand as she watched Stew squeezing my wife’s boobs.

Cathy tilted hier head back and watched Stew’s face as he groped her bososm.  “You like me, don’t you?” my wife asked Stew.

“I won you fair and square, I intend to use you to the fullest,” Stew told my wife with a grin. He gave me a lecherous grin as he pulled one of my wife’s breast out of her bra and started pinching the exposed nipple.

“Naughty, naughty,” laughed Trinh excitedly. I noticed with shock that the young accountant was touching herself under the table, and then I noticed my own stiff erection for the first time.  I must have been hard for the past ten minutes without realizing  it.  Somehow the sight of my wife being handled by my muscular rival was making me aroused.  How embarrassing.

“You can use my lips, too,” moaned Cathy, and my wife parted her soft pouty lips, offering them to Stew.  She gripped the back of his head passionately as his mouth locked with hers.  My hardon grew uncomfortably hard as I watched my wife kiss my nemesis while he tugged gently on the hard pink nipple poking out of the top of her dress.

But I gasped in shock when my wife went so far as to reach down between Stew’s legs and start squeezing his cock.

“Oh, she’s going for the dong,” said Trinh knowingly.

“Cathy!  Come on now, for chissake,” I blurted.  I pushed my own erection down under the table.

My wife broke off from kissing Stew and she looked at me blearily. “Oh come on, Norman.  Why does sex have to be so serious all the time?  Why can’t it be playful for once?”

“This is playful, Cathy?” I asked gesturing at Stew. “Him tweaking your bare nipple in front of everyone?”  I glanced around hesitantly, and sure enough, Cathy and Stew were getting plenty of stares from around the room.  People were whispering behind their hands to one another.

“Yes, Norman,” said Cathy as though explaining something to a child.  “This is PLAYFUL.  Stew proved he his more masculine than you.  So now I am playing the primate female, offering herself to the alpha male of the troop.”  Cathy unzipped Stew’s fly and pulled his stiff cock out of his pants.  He grunted in surprise and Trinh gasped, her mouth making  a cute O shape as she beheld the red swollen glans of Stew’s cock poking up just above the table top.

“Seriously, Cathy?” I said in exasperation.

My wife ignored me as she eagerly examined Stew’s unsheathed sword.  “Trinh look how big it is,” gushed my wife smitten wife.  She was tugging insistently on Stew’s cock and he pulled the entire front of her dress down, exposing both of her breasts fully so that he could fondle them better.

“Wow, you guys are really going at it,” commented Trinh.  Then she turned to me.  “This is so kinky, right?  Did you see how big and veiny Stew’s penis is?”

“I’m not really…ugh,” I stammered.  I was secretly wrestling with my boner under the table the whole time.  It was kinky, but I couldn’t admit it.

At this point, Stew’s pal Gartner came moseying over to the table.  “Uh, hi there gang.  Who’s your lovely companion there, Stew.  She’s really letting it all hang out I see.”  The tall blonde californian flashed his bright veneers for our inspection.

“Gartner, this is Cathy…. Norman’s wife,” grunted Stew.  He was distracted by my wife’s vigorous handjob as she jerked his wang without pause, even while Gartner joined us.

“Hello Gartner,” said my wife, offering her free hand to the newcomer to shake.

He looked at my wife’s bared breasts with interest as he shook her hand gently.

“Dude,is your wife jerking Stew’s meat?” Gartner asked me with a broad grin.  ‘That’s so gnarly.”

“Stew and I are just getting to know one another a little better,” insisted my wife.  She gave Stew’s cock and extra hard yank while his hands roved freely over her naked breasts.

“Ok, you bitch,” Stew panted.  “Enough of that, you’ve got to suck this thing.”  Stew’s face was beet red as he thrust his hips upward, impatient to feel my wife’s mouth wrapped around his cock.

“Oh, I’m jealous,” pouted Trinh.  “I want to suck it too.”

“You’re such a slut, Trinh.  I always knew you were a freak,” Gartner commented over the rim of his glass.

“Get down there and suck my balls then,” commanded Stew.  “Let Cathy suck the head, you suck the balls.”

I wasn’t too surprised when Trinh disappeared, sliding lithely under the table to start servicing Stew’s testicles.  And I watched in a mix of despair, shame, and arousal as my wife looked me in the eye while she lowered her head into Stew’s lap and took the head of his penis into her soft red mouth.  She made eyes at me as she sucked Stew’s cock and I rubbed myself hard under the table as I watched.

“You people are going to be the talk of the water cooler for weeks to come,” laughed Gartner good naturedly.

“Ahh, ahh, your wife sure likes my cock there, Norman,” Stew said.  “Did you notice that?”

“Don’t rub it in, asshole,” I spat back bitterly.

“Yeah?  Hey Cathy, hand me your panties, will you?” asked Stew.  He was wriggling uncontrollably as my wife and Trinh went to town on his junk.  People at other tables were starting to point now and some were laughing outloud.  I shrank down in my seat in mortification as my wife slipped her panties off and gave them to Stew.  She never took her mouth off his cock or broke eye contact with me the entire time.

Stew handed me my wife’s panties over the table.  “Is this rubbing it in too much, old man?” he asked with an arched brow.

“Too cold, my man, too cold,” laughed Gartner.

“Oh my, ok, I’m sorry, dear,” my wife told me.  Her cheeks and nose were flushed a bright red and her mouth pouted open sensuously.  “I need to take the dominant male’s superior prick inside me now.”  She hiked the hem of her dress up until it was bunched up around her waist, then she swung her leg over Stews lap so that she was straddling him.  Trinh’s head appeared above the table again.

“”Oh my god, he’s entering me, Trinh,” my wife told her. She rolled her eyes back in her head.  “Oh god, he’s big.”

“Big and hard, right?” asked Trinh, her eyes bright with lust.

“This is so freaky, dude,” Gartner told me excitedly.  He was wrestling with a visible boner in his pocket.

I had my fly down at this point and was jerking myself under the table as I watched my wife pull the hem of her dress down modestly so it hid the fact that she was being violated by Stew’s dagger.

“Oh, honey, he’s going really deep into me, much deeper than you ever did,” my wife moaned at me.  Her eyebrows arched maddeningly as she made faces of passion at me.

“This is playful?” I gasped.  My pits were soaked and I was masturbating fiercely as I watched my wife bouncing up and down on Stew’s prong.

“Oh you fucking, slut, I’ll show you who’s boss,” shouted Stew.  He grasped my wife’s waist in both his big hands and he started jamming her forcefully up and down on his cock.  Basically he was masturbating himself with my wife’s entire body.  Or really her pussy I guess.

“Oh, oh, you are so ROUGH!” called my wife. I watched in fascination as her face changed and then her body shuddered.  She threw her head back and was shaking for a minute or so in the throes of climax while Stew jacked her up and down on his member nonstop.

“That’s it, that’s it, slut.  I’m cumming up inside your fucking slut wife, Norman,” he crowed in triumph.  “How you like me now, bitch?”

“You’re a dick, Stew,” I said simply, but it made me cum under the table to hear him bragging about emptying his seed inside my woman.  I know, I’m sick.  But that’s how it worked.

Cathy was slumped  down onto the table when  Stew lifter her gingerly off of his spent cock and set her down beside him again.

“Oh wow, that was literally the best sex I’ve ever had in my life,” my wife told me, her eyes shiny with lust.  “I think I’m in love.”

“Sorry, babe, but I’m more the love ‘em and leave ‘em type,” said Stew.  He zipped up hurriedly and jumped up to join Gartner who gave him and enthusiastic high five.

“Drinks on me, my man.  That was fucking EPIC,” shouted Gartner.  He and Stew headed off to the bar.

I looked around sheepishly and discovered that half the company had witnessed my wife getting owned by Stew’s big dick and I quickly wiped my limp dick clean with my napkin and tucked it back inside my pants.

“Uh, I think we should go now,” I told my wife.  I jumped up and helped to her her feet.

“Cathy,” shouted Trinh loudly, holding up my wife’s knickers for all to see.  “Don’t forget these!”

I dodged back quickly and snatched the underwear from Trinh’s hand as the crowd broke out in laughter.

I never really lived that evening down.  Especially once Cathy got into the habit of visiting Stew for lunch and fucking him in the cafeteria in front of all my coworkers.

Gustav Jorgenson’s cuckold stories:
NEW! Slut Wife, Happy Life: Naughty Wife Tales
Exhibitionist Wife Tales: 15 stories of wives cheating in public
Most Popular collection: Gustav’s Selected Shorts
Giant chunks of cuck erotica: Wives Cheating Vol 1-5 Box, Collected Longs
Hate reading?  Try an audiobook “What’s My Wife Doing With That Guy?” Audiobook

Wife Enjoys Nude Sunbathing in Public

By Gustav Jorgenson

Excerpted from “Wives Cheating, Husband Watching Vol.2

Bob and his wife Dorothy head down to the park one weekend to sit and read and get some sun. It was a beautiful summer day and the park was crowded with families and couples walking about and playing on the lawn.

“Honey, let’s go find a secluded spot. I might want to take my top off and really soak up the sun,” said Dorothy with an impish smile.

“Come on now, you can’t do that here, it’s too crowded. Look around,” laughed Bob. He was very familiar with his wife’s penchant for outdoor nudity, but she normally restricted this behavior to remote or private places with no people around.

“But look how beautiful it is out here, I can’t be all covered up on a day like this,” she whined playfully.

“Look, you’ve got your bikini on under your clothes,” said Bob reasonably. “We can strip down to our bathing suits like just like we planned.”

“You know I’ll get tan lines and everything,” muttered Dorothy searching for a spot to sit. “Just humor me, I am sure we can find an out-of-the-way place.”

“This park isn’t very big…” said Bob nervously.

The couple walked to the edge of the park where it bordered some woods on private land and they found a little clearing that is set back from the footpath that encircles the park.

“This is fine,” said Dorothy happily. She throws down her bag and starts spreading the blanket about 20 feet from the path partially screened by some low bushes.

“It is nice and sunny here,” agreed Bob. “But there is no way you could strip here. You’ll be clearly visible from the path.”

“Well, there are these bushes,” said Dorothy with a half-hearted smile, gestures at some low shrubs.

“Come on, those don’t offer any privacy,” countered Bob. “Just skip the naked sunbathing idea for today, OK?”

“Alright dear, whatever you say,” agreed Dorothy reluctantly. She casually pulled off her t-shirt and shorts while Bob stood admiring her gorgeous hourglass figure as she stood in her bikini.

“I don’t blame you for wanting to show off that body,” he growled flirtatiously, grabbing her by her soft white hips.

“Stop it,” she laughed, giving him a quick kiss and then pushing him away. “No PDA please.”

While Bob stripped down to his swimming trunks, Dorothy unpacked their snacks and pulled out their novels. They settle down and are soon engrossed in their reading. It’s a wonderful spot. A cool breeze blows out of the woods and they are far enough from the center of the park to not be disturbed by the raucous laughter of the children playing there. Few people passed by their little clearing and pretty soon Dorothy get emboldened.

“Honey, will you run back to the car and get the other thermos? I want some iced tea,” she asked sweetly.

“No problem, dear,” said Bob and he gallantly jumped up to go fetch his wife some tea.

As soon as he is out of sight, Dorothy looked around cautiously. No one was on the path so she slipped off her top and wriggled out of her bikini bottom. She breathed a sigh of relief as her large breasts swung free and the cool breeze stiffens her pink nipples. She scratched at her bush distractedly, enjoying the unique feeling of freedom she experienced being nude outdoors.

“Now this is the way to enjoy a beautiful day,” she sighed to herself. She knew her husband would be miffed when he got back, but she liked being naughty sometimes.

By the time Bob returned, Dorothy was already engrossed in her book again.

“Christ Dorothy,” he exclaimed as he approached on the path. “Anyone passing by could see you perfectly well from the path here.” He stood there, themos in hand, shaking his head. The sight of his wife boldly displaying her lovely body made his penis stiffen with lust. He eyed her large round breasts with their erect pink nipples hungrily as he approached.

“I don’t think anyone will say anything,” she said with a wicked smile.

“Well, any guys that pass by certainly won’t complain,” admitted Bob, adjusting his erection.

“Jeez, look at you,” laughed Dorothy, grabbing the bulge in Bob’s shorts. “You like it when I act a little slutty.”

“Ha, maybe I do,” he agreed amicably, flopping down next to her. “But I will be embarrassed as hell when the next passersby come along.” He paused, contemplating his wife’s shapely bare thighs and slightly unruly snatch. “Won’t you be mortified if someone sees you?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, scrunching up her nose cutely. “I think I will just sit here reading as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. Folks might take a peek, but I’ll bet they will just keep on walking.”

“Ok, that’ what I’m going to do then,” says Bob. “But if the police come, I don’t know you.”

“Thanks alot Sir Galahad,” laughed his wife.

The first people to pass by were an elderly couple. A man and woman were walking slowly together and enjoying the day. Bob glanced up furtively then back down to his book again. His heart start pounding with anxiety and he wriggled with embarrassment. He glanced up again to see the old man staring open mouthed at Bob’s nubile wife. Then the old woman took notice. Bob quickly averted his eyes and felt a horrible urge to jump up and run away when he was surprised to hear the old couple break out laughing. They just shook their heads and chuckled as they walked slowly on their way.

Bob looked over at his wife who kept her eyes glued to her book the whole time but was blushing madly. “See,” she croaked nervously. “No big deal.”

Bob relaxed after that incident and found himself enjoying the weather and his tea as he sat reading and chatting with his wife. A couple of lone joggers passed without taking any notice of Dorothy at all. But then a group of fraternity boys in hurley t-shirts with backward baseball caps came sauntering along the path, and they stopped in their tracks when they saw Dorothy. They starting pointing at her naked body and hooting with excitement.

“Oh shit,” muttered Bob. “Just put a blanket over yourself, will you?”

“Fuck, I hate to cave in to a bunch of assholes like that,” said Dorothy through gritted teeth. “I’m not going to let them push me around.”

“Push you around?” sputtered Bob. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ll show those fuckers,” whispered Dorothy. Then she lifted her head up from her book and waved to the frat boys. “Hello boys, enjoying the view?” she shouted boldly.

Bob had to admit that was a gutsy move and the frat boys did shut up for a moment, completely taken aback by Dorothy’s audacity. But then, one especially cocky looking jerk wearing his sunglasses backward on his head squared his shoulders, fixed a grin on his face, and strode right over to Bob and Dorothy’s blanket. His friends exchanged nervous glances and followed hesitantly.

“Wassup,” said the frat boy nodding to Bob and Dorothy and then gazing down unabashedly at Dorothy’s bare boobs. “Nice rack.” His friends broke out giggling behind him.

“Uh, yeah, thanks… I guess,” said Dorothy with distaste. All the guys were staring at her body, but she just sat up straight and let them look. She kept her arms to her sides and refrained from the urge to cover her nipples and her crotch. “Hey you know what would be cool? It would be cool if you guys could chill out and leave me alone,” she said boldly.

Bob tried to square his shoulders and seem authoritative, but it was hard when he was sitting next to his naked wife while she told off a group of meatheads.

“Oh yeah, like, we’re so sorry,” said the leader furrowing his brow in mock contrition. “You have every right to hang out totally naked with that smokin’ body without being harassed.” The way he emphasized “smokin” made Bob grit his teeth in anger. “But you know what? I think everyone should be allowed to hang out naked. In fact, to show there is no hard feelings, I will join you.” With that the guy pulled his shorts right down and his erect penis came popping up, pointing directly at Dorothy’s face. His friends all broke out laughing in amazement at this.

“Jesus Christ,” shouted Bob, jumping to his feet. “What the fuck do you think you are doing?”

“Easy, bro, easy,” said the jock stepping a bit closer to Dorothy so that his swollen cock was just a foot from her face. “If she can hang out naked, I can too.” He started stroking his dick as he said that. Bob noticed with discomfort that Dorothy was gazing with fascination at the purple head of the penis bobbing just in front of her mouth. She started touching her nipples distractedly as she contemplated this young guy stroking his cock right in front of her.

“Oh man, look at her, she’s playing with her titties,” snickered one of the frat boys.

“Now who’s enjoying the view, baby?” asked the leader, noticing the interest the Dorothy was taking in his cock.

Dorothy blushed deeply and pulled her hands away from her nipples. “Eh, it’s a dick, no big deal,” she teased shrugging her shoulders. The frat boys laughed at the way Dorothy emphasized “big.” Even the leader had a chuckle at that, but he kept his cock directed at Bob’s wife’s face and he kept stroking his rod.

“Come on honey, let’s get out of here,” said Bob nervously.

“I’m not going to go anywhere,” said Dorothy decisively but she never took her eyes off the cock in front of her face. “I’m not going to be driven out of this spot by these asshats.” The frat boys laughed with delight at being called “asshats.”

“I like her, she’s feisty,” said the leader to Bob while he jerked his thing in front of his wife’s face. He stood another step forward and practically stuck it in her eye with his rod, but she reached up instinctively and pushed it away.

He gasped with shock, “How dare you touch my penis!”

“Keep that thing away from me,” said Dorothy. She was breathing heavily now and Bob would swear that she was actually aroused by this situation.

“I’m sorry,” he responded softly. “You seemed so interested in it…”

Bob strode forward and pushed the leader backward interceding between the leader and his wife. “Get the fuck out of here,” he demanded hotly, holding his fists up.

“Honey, just relax,” said Dorothy sharply. Then in a softer tone, “It’s a free country, they can do what they want. I am just going to lay here and ignore them.” Then she leaned back on her elbows and spread her legs slightly, exposing her bush to the group suggestively.

“Uh, what?” said Bob, distracted by the sight of his wife’s gorgeous body spread out for the whole group to enjoy.

“Yeah, sit down, honey,” said the leader. “She’s right. Nothing to get worked up about.”

Bob was torn. He knew how stubborn Dorothy could be. He was afraid to argue with her in front of these guys. He felt that would be a sign of weakness. So he had no choice but to play along with Dorothy’s lead.

“Ok, no problem,” snapped Bob. He backed away from the confrontation and sat down next to his wife. His mouth was dry, so he poured himself a cup of tea.

“Can I have more tea, too, dear?” asks his wife casually, ignoring the group of frat boys standing several feet away.

“Aren’t you going to offer us any?” asked the leader with a hurt expression, cautiously drawing a bit closer to Dorothy.

“Oh are you still here?” drawled Dorothy with a bored expression. She looked down at his cock, hanging limp between his legs from the clash with her husband. “Ha, what happened to your big purple cock? Doesn’t look like much now.”

But his cock responded to her attention almost immediately and began noticeably swelling as it filled with blood.

“It knows your talking about it,” said the leader smugly coming over to stand before Dorothy. Bob didn’t like how close he was standing or the way the big frat boy gazed down hungrily at his wife’s exposed beaver. Dorothy’s eyes widened in surprise at the leader’s cock rose up into a stiff erection before as she looked on. “Yeah, you like that?” he asked confidently. “Your body made that happen.” He started stroking his meat again as he stood over her naked body.

“You like to play with yourself in public, huh?” responded Dorothy laconically, gazing at the frat boy’s cock which had quickly regained it’s purplish hue.

“Hey, if a sexy lady spreads her legs for me, I will jerk it wherever… in the park… in church… wherever.” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly as his buddies broke out laughing. Dorothy couldn’t help herself and laughed along with them while Bob sat gritting his teeth in anger and jealousy.

“You would do me in church huh?” asked Dorothy with a smile, nudging her pelvis upward for emphasis.

The frat boys broke out in further raucous laughter at her little pelvic thrust and Bob’s face was burning with humiliation. She seemed to actually be flirting with this asshole now and he had no idea how to stop her. If he chastised her, she would probably resist him and the frat boys would mock him. So he just sat and drank his tea in frustration.

“Dude, did you see that little groin move she made?” said one of the leader’s sidekicks. “She’s into you.”

“I would definitely fuck you wherever you let me,” said the leader looking Bob’s wife up and down. “You have got a hot motherfucking body… and I like the way you dress.”

Everyone laughed at that, including Dorothy. Even Bob had to struggle to keep a straight face.

“Yeah, the way I dress,” said Dorothy softly. “That was clever, actually.” Bob’s guts twisted with angst as she looked up at the frat boy with amusement in her eyes. “But I can’t let you do me, I’m a married woman,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

“But what if your husband went along with it?” asked the frat boy, waggling his eyebrows at Bob lewdly.

“Of course I would never go along with it!” squeaked Bob in indignation and the frat boys all laughed at the way his voice cracked from the stress. Bob’s face burned bright red from the humiliation.

The leader just pursed his lips judiciously. “Now don’t rush into a decision, my man,” he said, wrinkling his brow. “I mean you let your wife take her clothes off in a public park, now didn’t you?”

Bob said nothing and just glared up at the frat boy who desisted from jerking himself and just waved his phallus back and forth as he started pacing back and forth above Bob’s wife as she lay spread out before him. Bob was mortified to see Dorothy’s eyes fixed on that stiff prick the entire time. She had a little smile on her face and her tongue was poking out slightly between her teeth, which Bob knew was a sign of intense interest in his wife.

“What were you thinking when she pulled her top off and those amazing orbs came popping out? Of course any red blooded guy who laid eyes on those bad boys would need to come over here and investigate.” He gestured reasonably to his buddies and they acknowledged his point. “Next, I would like you consider the intense interest your wife has shown in my humble johnson. You might have noticed that she can’t seem to pull her eyes away from my cock. I think it would be terribly selfish of you to deprive your woman of the pleasure my penis will bring to her.”

Dorothy laughed out loud with delight at this, “You’re pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?” she said looking up at him with a lascivious smile and spreading her legs a bit more. She cupped her breasts in her hands and started unconsciously toying with her nipples again.

“Dude, I think she just spread her twat a little more for you,” laughed one of the frat boys in surprise.

“She playing with her titties again too,” chimed in another.

Dorothy just shot them a dismissive smirk before returning her attention to the leader who stood waving his cock above her.

“It’s true, buddy, your wife clearly wants me to sink my meat into her. Be a sport and give us a few minutes alone, will you?” said the frat boy earnestly.

“Honey, let’s get out of here,” said Bob jumping to his feet decisively.

“Oh Bob, why are you letting these guys get your goat?” pouted Dorothy cutely. “Can’t you see that they are just excitable young guys who haven’t seen too many naked women before?”

“Come on, Dorothy. This has gone far enough, we are getting out here right now,” demanded Bob, going out on a limb.

But Dorothy just looked up at him with her inner eyebrows arched skeptically. “If you want to go, feel free. But I am going to lay right here and enjoy the sun. frat boys or no frat boys,” said Dorothy firmly. “Of course, I want you to stay,” she added quickly when she saw Bob’s face turn white.

Bob couldn’t believe that she was doing this to him. He had no idea what had gotten into her. Dorothy didn’t know herself. She hated to admit it, but she was incredibly turned on by this brash douchebag of a frat boy. She wondered what that stiff purple penis would feel like plunging into her cunt while his buddies looked on. She was sure that she was soaking wet by now.

Bob was very afraid that if he left now, the frat boy would just climb onto his wife and start fucking her right there in the park. So he swallowed his pride and sat back down by her side. Meanwhile, the frat boy kneeled down on the other side of Dorothy with his knees practically touching her side and his cock hovering above her belly button.

“Do you mind if I kneel over here?” he asked politely, looking down into Dorothy’s eyes.

“It’s a free country,” she responded breathily, gazing back into his eyes with frank lust.

Bob wriggled uncomfortably at this exchange but could think of nothing to say.

“You know, your skin in incredibly nice,” said the frat boy, putting his hand casually on Dorothy’s belly. She gasped in response but didn’t object. Bob said frozen with indecision. “It’s so soft,” said the jerk running his rough calloused hand lightly over Dorothy’s stomach.

“Thank you,” she gasped, barely able to breathe from excitement. Her pelvis thrust upward against reflexively and she had the intense desire for him to put his fingers inside her. The frat boys gathered more closely around to get a better view and Bob noticed one of them unzip his own fly to start jerking himself as he watched. The situation had clearly escalated out of control and he had no idea how to stop it short of dragging his wife physically away, and even that probably wouldn’t work at this point.

“I don’t want you to touch my wife,” said Bob suddenly. Dorothy looked over at him with concern, but the frat boy just kept rubbing her belly.

“Don’t be selfish, Bob,” he said in an infuriatingly familiar tone. “Besides, I notice that your wife isn’t objecting. You don’t want me to stop, do you darling?” He looked down into Dorothy’s eyes with a imploring tenderness that Bob found surprising.

“I… I guess it’s OK…” said Dorothy in small voice, looking at her husband with concern.

“Yeah, sure it is. Perfectly harmless,” said the leader soothingly as he started making wider and wider circles with his hand until he was alternately brushing the top of Dorothy’s public hair and the bottom of her breasts. Bob noticed Dorothy’s belly quivering with excitement and her eyes were locked with the douchebag’s. The frat boy’s penis started giving little spasms of excitement as as he felt up her naked body.

Dorothy looked down at it and made a little “O” of surprise with her mouth. “Your thing is hopping…” she said thickly.

“It’s cause your tits are so fucking big,” he said as he brazenly gripped a boob in each hand.

“Cut the shit,” squawked Bob helplessly as the frat boy started kneading Dorothy’s boobs in his hands and pinching her nipples.

“Take it easy, Bob, everything is going to be ok,” said the frat boy in a friendly tone. “You can’t blame me for going after these titties now, can you? Look at these things.” He squeezed Dorothy’s tits and pointed the nipples at Bob playfully. She giggled in spite of herself and reached down to grab hold of the frat boy’s purple cock.

“Ah fuck, atta girl,” he gasped with pleasure. “I thought you would never cave in and grab that thing.”

“Oh you like that?” she purred sexily as she started pulling on his swollen member.

“Dorothy!” exclaimed Bob in shock. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know, honey,” she said apologetically, tugging away on this other guy’s cock the entire time. “I just … Jesus, he’s as hard as a fucking rock. And it’s purple for Christ’s sake! I mean, who has a fucking purple penis?” She laughed weakly, averting her eyes from the stunned expression on her husband’s face, as she continued to work the frat boy’s tool.

The frat boys laughed raucously and crowded in closer. “This is awesome!” muttered the guy who was jerking himself as he watched.

The leader looked over at Bob and said, “Pardon me, Bob.” and he swung a leg over Dorothy so that he was straddling her with is cock in her face. She just broke out laughing hysterically.

“Oh my God, you are really going for it!” she exclaimed happily.

“Care to suck a purple penis?” he asked casually as he reached behind him and started exploring her twat with is fingers. Bob looked on in dismay as his wife hungrily thrust her hips upward in response to the frat boy’s fingering and simultaneously took his cock into her mouth and started sucking it urgently.

“Man, look at your wife going to town on Joey’s rod, Bob,” said one of the frat boys with a laugh. “It’s like she hasn’t had a dick in ages.”

“Shut the fuck up,” said Bob numbly as he looked on in shock.

“Ok, that’s enough honey,” said Joey pulling his thing away.

Dorothy gripped it and didn’t want to let go. “I want more,” she pleaded. Her eyes shining with lust.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to put it in you now,” he said tenderly. The frat boy turned and gave Bob a cocky smirk as Bob sat staring open mouthed at the site of his wife refusing to let go of this douchebag’s penis. Then the frat boy deftly squat-thrusted into a missionary position and dropped down between Bob’s wife’s legs. He grabbed his dick and nudged the head gently between Dorothy’s labia, moving it up and down her slit to get it lubricated. “She’s real wet,” he told Bob confidentially.

“Don’t tease,” whined Dorothy, her cheeks flushed and eyes burning with lust. “Put it in me,” she begged, avoiding her husband’s glare guiltily.
The cocky frat boy thrust his hips down, smoothing plunging his stiff prick into Dorothy’s hot sodden snatch. She gasped with pleasure and wrapped her arms around his back eagerly.

“See, you like that, don’t you?” he asked her.

“Yeah, it’s real hard,” she admitted, her wits dulled by lust.

“Take that!” he grunted as he started pumping his thing in and out of Bob’s wife. She clung to him making little whimpering sounds of passion. He turned to Bob and panted, “Oh man, your wife’s pussy is so fucking tight, it’s awesome!” Bob couldn’t take any more and jumped up. Bob was about to give the frat boy a kick, but one of his buddies intervened.

“Hey, I know how you must feel,” said the frat boy sidekick interposing himself between Bob and the fornicating couple. He continued in a surprisingly compassionate tone. “But you should just let him do her at this point. Look how into it she is.”

Bob paced back and forth in frustration as the leader drilled his wife on the blanket they laid out just an hour before. A group of teenagers was gathered on the path watching in fascination. Suddenly Bob’s wife cried out in ecstasy as she entered the throes of climax. Bob looked over to see the frat boy pull out and spill load after load of hot sperm all over her soft white belly. She jerked his cock to help him finish and looked over at Bob with an apologetic expression. ”Sorry honey,” she said to Bob with chagrin.

Just then the guy jerking off while he watched knelt down by her side and shot a load right into her face.

“Jesus christ!” she said, punching him in the gut angrily. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

The guy fell back on his ass laughing. “What? Are you going to get all picky now? You just fucked my buddy without even knowing his name.”

“I didn’t know his name, but he had the balls to whip his junk out and take control of the situation. You’re just a fucking peanut in the gallery, jerking your pud,” she replied angrily wiping his cum from her face. “I don’t want your fucking jizz on me.”

All the frat boys laughed uproariously at this and the leader got up and gave his buddy a swift kick in the ribs. “She told you off, Patterson. That was epic. I love this lady.” He went and found his shorts and pulled them on. “Ok, we are out of here,” said, bending down to give Dorothy a kiss on the cheek. “See you later gorgeous, thanks for the shag. You were amazing.”

“You too, purple penis man,” said Dorothy with a laugh.

Joey turned to Bob and held out his hand, “Hey, no hard feelings, huh, bro?”

Bob just slapped his hand away in anger and turned his back on him. Joey shrugged his shoulders and helped Patterson to his feet.

“That kick really hurt, bro,” complained Patterson.

Joey just punched him in the arm as hard as he could in response.

“Ow, what was that for?” yelped Patterson.

“That’s for taking liberties with my woman,” said Joey with a laugh as the group walked away. Bob gritted his teeth in anger that this douchebag was calling Dorothy “his woman.”

Just at that moment a policeman pushed through the crowd of teenagers and strode casually over to where Dorothy was laying, naked and covered in cum.

“Hello, officer,” she said sardonically. “Can we help you?”

“You can help everyone by putting some clothes on. I’m going to have to take you two in for public indecency,” said the policeman shaking his head sternly.

“Oh, I don’t know her officer, I was just passing by,” said Bob thinking quickly. As he walked away he heard Dorothy screeched in complaint behind him. He only felt a little guilty about it. Maybe she deserved a night in jail for cheating on him like that.

Gustav Jorgenson’s cuckold stories:
NEW! Slut Wife, Happy Life: Naughty Wife Tales
Exhibitionist Wife Tales: 15 stories of wives cheating in public
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Wife Confronts Thugs on the Corner in her Lingerie

By Gustav Jorgenson

Excerpted from: “Wives Cheating, Husbands Watching, Vol.4

Marcel and Chloe were driving home from dinner one evening when they noticed a trio of rough looking young men loitering under the streetlamp on their corner.

“Ugh, look at those ruffians,” said Chloe, arching her brow in disdain. “What are they doing here?”

“They don’t look too savory,” agreed Marcel, slowing the BMW down slightly and craning his head down to get a better look at the strangers. The three young men were all in their early twenties, wearing sagging jeans which hung below their waist, exposing their underwear with bright white t-shirts, and baseball caps with the tags still attached. Marcel stared for a moment, surprised to see such urban fashion in this suburban neighborhood, but felt he uncomfortable when the trio of thugs stared back insolently and grabbed their crotches in signs of disrespect.

“Horrible,” puffed Chloe indignantly. “Since when do we see such trash here in our neighborhood?”

“Never before, I’m sure,” muttered Marcel as he turned into their driveway. Marcel drove directly into the garage and closed the garage door behind them for safety, which was a precaution he rarely took. Chloe looked at him significantly as they entered their home.

“I’m getting changed, dear,” sighed Chloe. “Perhaps you should notify the security service and have them check out those hooligans.”

“Good idea, dear,” agreed Marcel. He took out his phone and called the number for the neighbor security patrol. “Yes, hello, can we get a patrol to 340 Wren’s Nest Way? There are some suspicious characters standing on the corner.”

“We have someone two blocks away, I will send them over,” replied the operator.

“Thank you very much,” said Marcel. He shifted the curtain and peeked out the living room window to see the three young men laughing and punching each other. Within moments the private security SUV pulled up and Marcel saw the security guard roll down his window and ask the thugs some questions. They gave him the finger and shouted insults and the driver quickly rolled up his window and drove off. Marcel stared in confusion.

In the bedroom, Chloe took off her dress and changed into some seductive lingerie: a see-through chemise and black stockings. She had had a few drinks over dinner and was in the mood for sex. She posed in front of the mirror to review how she looked. Her blond hair hung down to her shoulders, carefully dyed to hide the grey. At 43, she still had a good figure, but it was getting harder and harder to maintain. She cupped her large breasts in her hands and hefted them. They used to be a bit perkier, she sighed to herself. She thought of the young toughs on the corner and wondered what they would think of her body. The devilish thought sent a spasm of arousal through her loins that she quickly squelched. My god, what am I thinking? she chided herself. Then she went out to present herself to her husband.

“Hubba, hubba,” said Marcel, appreciatively, looking his wife up and and down from head to toe as she returned to the living room, showing off her figure. He gazed up from her shapely legs to her wide hips and narrow waist and then further up to pause at her large jiggling breasts. “That doesn’t leave much to the imagination, does it?” he asked excitedly, his penis growing stiff in his pants.

“Hug me,” said Chloe with a pout, holding her arms open.

Marcel encircled his wife in his arms eagerly and the gripped her nice round buttocks in his hands, grinding his stiff penis against her crotch.

“Oooh, I like that,” purred Chloe in his ear.

“Let’s go to the bedroom and discuss this further,” suggested Marcel.

“Yes, let’s. But, darling, did you get rid of those young men on the corner? They are making me nervous and I won’t be able to relax until they are gone.”

“Oh, uh, well I called security, but they didn’t seem able to move those fellows along,” admitted Marcel with chagrin.

“You mean they are still out there?” gasped Chloe, pulling away and gazing at her husband with surprise. “Why that simply won’t do!” Chloe strode over the to the window and peeked out herself. The young men were roughhousing with each other on the corner and she couldn’t help but notice that all three were quite solidly built. “Honey, go out there and tell them to go away.”

The blood drained from Marcel’s face and his armpits immediately grew damp with anxiety. “Err, darling, is that really necessary? Let’s just lock the doors and windows. We’ll be safe in here.”

“Marcel, are you afraid to go out there? Where is your backbone?” demanded Chloe, growing a bit exasperated with her husband. “Aren’t you going to protect me?”

“I’m sure we’ll be safe in here,” said Marcel, making soothing gestures and reaching out toward his wife. “Let’s just go into the bedroom and divert our attention.”

“I simply won’t be able to get into the mood if I know those, those animals are out there,” said Chloe, the blood rushing to her face. She touched her breasts unconsciously and a crazy thought came to her that both thrilled and mortified her. “Look here, if you won’t go out there and get rid of them, then, then I will do it myself,” she sputtered.

“You can’t be serious,” chuckled Marcel nervously. “Look at you, you aren’t even dressed.”

“I’ll put a coat on,” said Chloe bravely, and the next thing she knew Marcel was trailing after her as she strode toward the hall closet.

“Chloe, be reasonable,” he pleaded as she put on a long black wool coat and slipped into a pair of heels.

“Oh, Marcel, I will be fine,” she sighed. “I’m not going to be intimidated by these hooligans. I am going to go straight out there and tell them to run right along.”

“Yes? Just like that?” asked Marcel skeptically.

“Just like that,” agreed Chloe meeting her husband’s worried gaze and giving him a grim smile in return as she put her hand on the doorknob. “Look, I asked you to handle it, but apparently you don’t have the stones.”
“Honey, please, think what you are doing, I think the alcohol is clouding your judgment,” stammered Marcel, his gut tied in knots as their tender moment quickly transformed into conflict.

Chloe pursed her lips at her husband disdainfully and then tossed her head, opening the door and striding out without saying another work. Marcel watched her go with a sinking feeling for a moment before shutting the door and rushing over the living room window to see what happened.

The stars were twinkling above as Chloe strode down the sidewalk toward the young men. Her heart was racing madly and she fought the urge to turn and run back to the house. She felt quite naked under her heavy wool coat and wondered if the bartender had been making the drinks stronger than usual after all. She had no idea what had gotten into her. She was the first to admit that she could be wilful, but this was a bold move even for herself. The ruffians soon noticed her coming and they all turned to face her with interest. She could see them looking at her stockinged legs as they emerged occasionally through the front of her coat. The lowest button was only a little below her crotch and she tried to clutch the coat closed in modesty as she approached the crew on the corner.

“What’s up, pretty lady?” said the obvious leader of the gang, looking Chloe up and down boldly. “You come out to keep us company?”

Chloe stopped and stood there for a moment, inspecting the the three young men before her as they stared back at her insolently. None of them had showered recently and they stunk of body odor. Much to her dismay, she found the scent of these sweaty young men to be unaccountably arousing. They were all of the lowest class, and didn’t seem very intelligent. But they were certainly all well muscled. She watched them unwittingly gripping themselves, continually re-adjusting their jocks and it both thrilled and disgusted her.

She planted her legs wide apart and put her hands on her hips, exposing her stockinged legs as she addressed these thugs. “Now see here, what are you no-accounts doing here on my corner?” she demanded, tossing her hair imperiously and holding her chin high while her heart pounded in her chest.

The leader whistled lewdly, bending down to inspect her shapely legs more closely and the trio of young men broke out laughing, redoubling their efforts as their fingered their own crotches.

“She looks like a flasher in that coat,” mumbled one of the young toughs.

“She’s a MILF for sure,” agreed the leader loudly, smacking his lips crudely. “I’d tap that ass all night!”

His friends broke out in raucous laughter, punching each other excitedly at the comment, and Chloe felt her face grow hot with embarrassment. “Pish posh, such bold talk from a boy. How old are you young man?” she demanded, pointing a finger at the leader.

He was a bit taken aback by Chloe’s firm show of confidence in spite of her reddening face. “I’m 20 years old,” he said a bit defensively. “Old enough to handle you,” he said regaining his composure and grinning at her lecherously while he gripped his crotch.

“I didn’t come out here to play games with you boys,” insisted Chloe. She was enjoying this back and forth more than she cared to admit. “I want to know what you are doing out here.”

“We are just hanging out, waiting for hot cougars to come out and fuck with us,” said the leader, “Looks like you fit the bill.” He looked Chloe’s body up and down dramatically while his cohorts chortled and snorted with crude mirth, fingering themselves shamelessly.

“Why you impertinent rascal, I am old enough to be your mother, show some respect,” said Chloe, wagging her finger at the leader as she suppressed a smile. She had to admit, the leader had an infectious playfulness about him that she found appealing. Also, his teeth were very straight and white. “And will you three stop worrying your johnsons like that? Don’t you know that it’s inappropriate to touch yourselves in front of a lady?”

“What the fuck is a johnson?” laughed the leader with a broad smile as he gripped that very thing.

“Johnson is a euphemism for penis, if you must know,” responded Chloe, feeling her pulse quicken.

The three young men broke out giggling convulsively. “She’s talking about our penises,” mumbled one the the crew, hiding his face in his hands.

“What’s the matter, aren’t you used to women talking about your penises?” asked Chloe archly, seizing the advantage.

“Oh, tell me she didn’t say that,” gasped the leader as he and his friends hid their faces in their hands and laughed in embarrassment.

“Look at you boys, getting all worked up over the work ‘penis,’” she said, relishing the effect it had on them. “And you think you could handle a grown woman like me?”

“Hey, now,” said the leader straightening up. “Once you saw my dick, you would be down on your knees begging for it.” His pants were hanging low in that urban style and he pulled the waist down below his crotch, exposing his boxer shorts. Then he pinched his swollen penis with both hands showing her the outline of his generous bulge. His friends hooted with delight at this display of bravado in front of the older woman. Marcel saw it as well as he watched his wife confronting the thugs from the safety of the living room window and he felt his gut knot up with anxiety and shame. But he just kept watching, transfixed with a sick fascination.

Chloe’s eyes widened at the sight of the young thug’s huge package and she had to consciously refrain from touching her own crotch in response. She could feel herself getting wet. She looked up and down the deserted suburban street, with lush green lawns and large leafy trees lit by the cold streetlamp light. There was not another person in sight aside from herself and these three delinquents standing together on the sidewalk. All of her neighbors were tucked away, safe inside their homes, sleeping or sleepily watching a final TV show before bed. Her pulse raced as she decided to test these boys further. Chloe looked back over her shoulder at her husband standing nervously in the living room window as she carefully unbuttoned her coat and held it closed loosely.

“Well, once you saw what I have to offer in return, you might find yourself begging my pardon, young man,” she said fixing the leader with a devilish grin and opening her coat dramatically. She flashed the three young men a brief peek at herself, practically naked beneath her coat in her lingerie. They erupted in shouts of excitement when they caught a glimpse of Chloe’s hard nipples, visible through translucent material of her chemise before she quickly closed her coat again. Her heart was racing and she was amazed and aroused at her own audacity. It felt thrilling to expose herself to these brash hooligans out on the concrete sidewalk on a quiet suburban evening. Her pulse pounded in her ears as her heart thumped in her chest. She turned again to look back at her husband and even from the street, she could tell that he had gone as white as a sheet. She smiled to herself at the sight. That will show him what happens when he acts a coward.

While his two friends turned in circles with the hands on their cheeks, chattering in disbelief, the leader drew himself upright and pulled his jeans back up toward his waist, trying to regain his composure. “Yeah, you are a hot slut alright.” He noticed Chloe looking back up toward her husband in the window. “Hey, wait a minute. Is that your old man up there? Did that limpdick let you come down here in nothing but your drawers to try to shag us out of here all by yourself?”

“Yes, he did, shameful, isn’t it?” said Chloe patting her hair. She held her coat closed only loosely, allowing a glimpse of pale thigh or sensuous navel to peek out intermittently.

The three thugs obliged her by fixing their gazes at the front of her coat, drinking in every chance revelation with their eager eyes.

“Well we better go up there and teach that mother fucker to grow a pair. That’s no way to treat a lady!”

“It certainly isn’t,” she agreed, giving the leader a coquettishly glance as stroked the top of her stockings, just inches from her crotch. She flushed with satisfaction as he lost his train of thought, all three staring slack jawed as she traced her fingers up, showing them her tender inner thigh.

“Oh man, yeah,” said the leader, slapping himself and rubbing his hand over his face to bring himself back into the moment. “Let’s go.” He strode off purposefully toward Chloe’s front door, cutting carelessly across her lawn with his pals in tow.

Chloe had to stick to the sidewalk as she teetered quickly along, her palms were damp with excitement and she felt butterflies in her stomach. Marcel is going to simply poop himself. She thought with an internal laugh. Serves him right.

Marcel‘s blood ran cold as the three trespassers clomped heedlessly across his pristine lawn. Don’t these fools realize that they could damage the turf walking that way? he caught himself worrying about the grass before snapping back to attention and realizing he had bigger problems at hand. He had no idea what could possibly be happening but he didn’t like it. It was especially dismaying that Chloe would open her coat for these young hoods. He nearly jumped in surprise when they pounded loudly on his front door. He froze in place, fearful of answering for a moment before realizing that his wife was still out there with these thugs and that he must let her in. So he gathered up his nerve and went and opened the door.

“What’s the meaning of this?” demanded Marcel shakily when he was confronted with the visage of three big rough young men, snarling angrily at him on his doorstep.

“Bitch, step aside, we have to have a word with you,” said the leader pushing Marcel roughly back into his foyer as the three hooligans muscled their way inside.

Chloe arrived close behind them, mincing along quickly in her heels. “Now boys, play nice,” she chided with a wicked grin as she ushered them along and closed the door behind them.

“Chloe, who are these people?” cried Marcel in consternation.

“You can call me, Jimmy,” grunted the leader, poking his thumb into his chest aggressively. “That’s Ken and Ty.” The other two nodded absently as they gazed around at the well appointed foyer with it’s marble floor and high vaulted ceiling.

“This is my husband, Marcel,” said Chloe. “Marcel, I went down to shoo these fellows along, but when they realized that you let me do this on my own, they demanded to speak to you about this.”

“Errgh?” choked Marcel in shock, grasping at his throat as Jimmy was distracted by an antique Chinese pot on the table. “Put that down, it’s expensive!” he snapped when Jimmy hefted the heavy ceramic pot with ease.

“Don’t piss yourself, I’m just looking,” snapped Jimmy in response as he examined the classical scene painted on the side of a waterfall emerging from a mountain to form a broad brook bordered by delicate trees. “This is cool. Look at this.” His friends gathered around looking at the painting and making sounds of admiration. Chloe smiled at her husband over the naive reaction and he just gaped back at her in alarm.

“I know you boys aren’t really old enough yet, but would you like a drink?” asked Chloe, glancing at Marcel to judge his reaction.

“I want gin and juice,” said Jimmy looking up from the vase.

“Marcel, would you?” asked Chloe with a smile.

“What? Certainly not! I want these scoundrels to leave this instant, not to serve them drinks!” sputtered Marcel indignantly, drawing himself upright and tugging at the lapels of his sportcoat for emphasis.

“Bitch, get us some drinks before I smash you in the face with this vase,” said Jimmy wielding the heavy pot as though it were as light as a feather.

Marcel felt his throat constrict with fear and scampered back to the wet bar in the livingroom. This is like a goddamned home invasion. Should I call the police? he wondered to himself.

“There, there, Jimmy, put the vase down, dear,” said Chloe touching Jimmy’s muscular bicep with appreciation. “Come into the living room and have a drink.” She herded the hoodlums into the great room that adjoined the foyer which was panelled in dark wood with rich leather furniture.

“My god, what the fuck do you do for a living?” asked Jimmy looking around in astonishment. His friends were also awed by the luxurious decor and they all grouped together in the middle of the room self-consciously.

“Marcel does mergers and acquisitions,” said Chloe casually as she discarded her coat and tossed it onto a chair, revealing her nearly naked body for the young men to see.

“Good lord, Chloe, cover yourself, what are you thinking?” exclaimed Marcel, his face turning red as Jimmy and his friends took the drinks from his hands.

“What’s the matter, dear, are you ashamed of my body?” asked Chloe, cocking one hip to show off her body. “Are my breasts too saggy?” she asked coyly, cupping her large boobs in each hand.

“Oh shit,” muttered Jimmy as he and his friends covered their faces and peeked between their fingers at Chloe as she showed off for them. Their bravado ebbed noticeably, and Chloe smiled to herself to see their youth showing. They were clearly intimidated by the wealth on display around them and Chloe’s brash behavior. They had never experienced such a thing and they giggled nervously as they stole peeks at Chloe’s breasts as she offered them for inspection.

“Now look what you’ve done, even the gangsters are cowed by your haughty posing,” chuckled Marcel, shaking his head in confused bemusement.

“Man, shut the fuck up,” snapped Jimmy, pressing his lips together tightly and struggling to muster his courage in this strange mansion with it’s overbearing luxury.

Marcel contemplated the rough youth briefly with pursed lips before turning to his wife. “Ok, Chloe, you have had your fun. Can we please ask our, uh, guests to leave now?”

“Actually, no,” said Chloe crossing the room self-consciously in her negligee to go fix herself a drink. “Jimmy promised to show me his penis. He insinuated that it would make me simply swoon with passion at the very sight of it.”

Marcel’s face drained of color and he felt his blood run cold as he stood there gaping unable to formulate a sentence.

“Ha, ha, that’s right, motherfucker,” said Jimmy, downing the rest of his screwdriver quickly and putting the glass down with a thump. “What did you expect? You can’t send your helpless wife down to the corner in her drawers to go fuck with a gang of thugs on the corner, you fool. You ought to know that they are gonna jump on that shit and end up fucking the shit out of her.”

“Now look here!” objected Marcel, raising his fist impotently and striding forward.

But Ty just stuck out his large meaty arm and pushed Marcel backward with a minimum of effort.

“Shit, if you are in acquisitions, you should acquire some balls,” laughed Jimmy causing his pals to break out laughing.

Even Chloe had to smile at that. “Ok, my young braggadocio, enough talk,” she said, gulping down a shot to fortify her nerve. “Let’s see this wondrous phallus of yours, shall we?” she looked at her husband with a twinkle in her eye.

Jimmy deflated again slightly as he eyed his buddies and then Marcel. “Nah, I don’t whip out my junk in front of dudes. Let’s go in the bedroom so I can let you have it in private.”

“Alright, then, my modest little gangster,” said Chloe condescendingly. “Come along.” She came and took Jimmy by the hand and lead him off toward the nearby guest bedroom. He turned back to his buddies with his tongue out and making snapping gestures with his other hand while they looked on in shock and laughed in astonishment. Then he turned and gave Marcel the finger before disappearing into the short hallway that lead to the guest bedroom. She gave Marcel a little ironic wave before leading the thug into the bedroom, but they didn’t bother closing the door behind them.

“Man, that’s fucked up,” chuckled Ty nervously. “Jimmy’s going to dick your wife in there.”

Marcel was trying to think of an appropriate response when a spotlight blazed briefly through the front window. He rushed over and saw a police car cruising slowly in front of the house sweeping it’s searchlight back and forth. The security service must have notified the police! he thought with excitement as he waved his arms vigorously to gain the officer’s attention. They must have seen him because the car stopped and two bulky policemen emerged and walked cautiously up the front walk to Marcel’s house as he urged them on with his motions.

“Now you interlopers will get your comeuppance. The police are here,” crowed Marcel in delight as he rushed to the front door to let them in.

The two hooligans scanned frantically about looking for an escape route but the officers were inside the room quickly and pinned the two suspects with stern glares.

“Ok, what’s going on here?” asked the senior officer, never taking his eyes off the two young men who fired back defiant glares.

“These, these hooligans barged right into my house, officer, and I want them out,” said Marcel waving his hands hysterically.

“Nah, nah, tell the truth, Marcel. Your wife invited us in here and you handed us these drinks yourself,” objected Ty, holding up his gin and juice for the officers to see.

“Is that true, sir?” asked the officer, furrowing his brow and turning to Marcel.

“Uh, well,” said Marcel, rubbing his head in confusion.

“Oh Jimmy,” called Chloe from the other room. “Oh it’s big, go slow, go slow!”

Everyone looked down the hall in response to Chloe’s scream and the officers put their hands on their weapons in surprise. Suddenly there was a telltale rhythmic tapping of the headboard against the living room wall.

“Who else is in this house?” the senior officer demanded sharply, glaring down at Marcel.

“Uh, my wife is in there with the leader of this bunch,” admitted Marcel with chagrin.

“Sounds like Jimmy is getting into your wife,” snickered Ty under his breath.

“What did you say there, tough guy?” asked the senior cop aggressively.

“You can hear that he’s fucking her in there,” said Ty, spreading his hands in supplication. “That’s not my fault, is it?”

“I’m going to check this out,” the senior cop told the younger officer who smirked sarcastically in response.

Marcel tagged along behind the policeman as he walked cautiously down the hall. He didn’t want to believe that his wife was really having sex with this gangster and still held out hope that this was some sort of ruse and that she was just teasing him by playacting loudly. But as he and the officer approached the open door to the guest room, his hopes were dashed. Chloe lay naked on the bed with her legs spread and Jimmy was on top of her, fucking her missionary style. Marcel watched with sick fascination as the young man’s muscular ass pumped in and out, framed by his wife’s lovely knees, spread wide to provide him easier access to her cunt.

“Uh, ma’am, excuse me, but I have to ask. Is this sex consensual?” asked the officer loudly, adjusting the lump in his own trousers.

Jimmy paused mid stride with his cock sunk deep into Marcel’s wife and looked over his shoulder in surprise and fear at the ominous form of the policeman in the doorway.

“Oh my god, don’t stop, Jimmy, please, keep going, I’m right on the verge,” gasped Chloe reach down and gripping the thug’s ass cheeks greedily. “And yes, officer, this is the most consensual sex I have had in years,” she said, arching her brow at her husband.

“Ha, ha, yeah!” laughed Jimmy, sticking his tongue out at Marcel as he resumed dicking his wife. “You heard that, Marcel? She’s begging for that dick now,” crowd Jimmy triumphantly as he pumped away.

The officer shook his head in disbelief. “Now I’ve seen everything,” he said.

“Can’t you, can’t you do something?” whined Marcel as Jimmy’s thrusts increased in intensity and the headboard resumed it’s staccato tapping.

The officer looked down at Marcel sympathetically, but the cuckold husband couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of his wife getting ploughed in his guest bedroom by a random thug off the street. “Sorry, sir, but I can’t see what law these hoodlums are actually breaking. Technically adultery isn’t illegal here in California.”

“Would you two mind taking this conversation into the other room? I am about to climax over here,” gasped Chloe as she clung to Jimmy’s back and he pumped his dick in and out of her sodden pussy.

“Wait, don’t you want Marcel to watch? He might learn something,” chuckled Jimmy glancing over his shoulder lewdly.

“Ohgodohgodohgod,” cried Chloe as the orgasm overcame her.

“Uh, yeah,” said the officer, turning to go and covering his crotch to hide his erection.

“Goddamn it, Chloe,” snapped Marcel in frustration. His gut wrenched with jealousy and shame and yet he found that he also needed to cover the tent pitched in his own pants by his own tumescence.

He followed the officer back to the living room while Jimmy called after him. “Marcel, wait, come back! I am coming inside her now and filling your wife up with my man jam.”

Marcel and the policemen returned to the living room and found the two thugs giggling and punching each other. The junior officer was struggling not to laugh himself and Marcel’s face burned with humiliation.

“Look, sir, I am really sorry about all this,” said the officer. “I sympathize with your plight, but this really isn’t a police matter. I can’t think of any law that was actually broken here.”

“But can’t you at least get rid of these two thugs?” complained Marcel motioning to Ty and Ken.

“Well if you ask them to leave and they refuse then I guess we can escort them out,” said the officer scratching his head.

“Oh, hello officers,” said Chloe walking into the room, completely naked, eyes shining and cheeks flushed from the sexual exertion. All eyes turned to admire her pale, shapely hourglass figure. She shameless displayed her blonde bush and her large bouncing breasts with their stiff pink nipples. She secretly hoped that no one noticed the streaks of grey in her pubic hair, but otherwise was riding an endorphin high from her glorious orgasm and felt perfectly comfortable to be nude before all these strangers. In fact, she relished the way the two officers looked her over lasciviously. “Can I offer you anything? Coffee, tea… me?” Jimmy followed her into the room, zipping up his pants and snorting with amusement at this last comment.

“Heh, heh, uh, no ma’am, we will just be going now and taking these ruffians with us,” said the senior officer. He had a hard time pulling his eyes away from Chloe’s perfect nipples as they pointed in random directions from the jiggling of her boobs.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t’ hear of it,” she asserted, putting her hands on her hips in an authoritative stance that looked very odd since she was nude. “These are my guests, and I want them to stay.”

“Err, alright,” said the senior officer glancing over at his partner who just shrugged in confusion. “I guess we will just leave you folks to your, uh, evening entertainment then. We will let ourselves out.”

Chloe went to the bar and poured herself a big glass of ice water. “Ty and Ken, have you boys ever had sex with a middle-aged woman?” she asked as the officers departed and Marcel looked on incredulously.

“Nope,” admitted Ty shyly.

“Well then, come along to the guest bedroom. You two have a lot to learn,” said Chloe imperiously, snapping her fingers for them to join her as she headed back down the hall.

“Chloe, this is simply beyond the pale,” cried Marcel in complaint.

“I’m sorry, darling but apparently this is what happens when you gutlessly allow me to handle a gang of hooligans on my own. Not that I am angry about it. I feel that a whole new world of possibilities is opening up. I had no idea that young hooligans would be so, uh, enthusiastic in the bedroom. Young Jimmy gave me quite a workout and I am eager to see what Ty and Ken can do now.”

The two hoods avoided Marcel’s glares of frustration and followed Chloe down the hall and into the guest bedroom.

“Don’t feel bad, Marcel. She just needs some fresh dick is all,” said Jimmy. “Here, let me grab you a drink to show there are no hard feelings.” Jimmy went to the bar and poured himself another gin and juice.

“No thank you,” said Marcel coldly and Jimmy just shrugged. He hopped over the back of the couch and took up the remote control for the entertainment center. After a few minutes of fiddling with it, Jimmy brought up some hip-hop music videos and was quickly engrossed.

Marcel stood for a moment pondering his options when the headboard resumed it’s insistent tapping.

“Don’t pout out there, dear,” called Chloe, grunting from the impact of some hood’s fat cock. “Come and watch them use me. It will be fun.”

Marcel considered walking out for a moment but noticed his member swelling with excitement at the thought of watching his wife get owned by two thugs at once. Ah well, might as well try to salvage what I can of the evening, he thought to himself as he heading toward the bedroom unzipping his fly while heavy beats thumped from his high-end speaker system, practically shaking the entire house.

Gustav Jorgenson’s cuckold stories:
NEW! Slut Wife, Happy Life: Naughty Wife Tales
Exhibitionist Wife Tales: 15 stories of wives cheating in public
Most Popular collection: Gustav’s Selected Shorts
Giant chunks of cuck erotica: Wives Cheating Vol 1-5 Box, Collected Longs
Hate reading?  Try an audiobook “What’s My Wife Doing With That Guy?” Audiobook

Under the Blanket

By Gustav Jorgenson

Excerpted from “Wives Cheating, Husbands Watching, Vol.3
Megan and her coworker Doug were chatting in the kitchen at work.

“You look very nice today, Megan,” said Doug, looking her body up and down appreciatively.

Megan blushed and tugged self-consciously at the hem of her skirt. Doug was always flirting with her and she enjoyed the attention, so she had started wearing shorter skirts and tighter sweaters to work lately. “Thanks Doug, that’s very nice of you to say,” she said, taking a sip of her tea.

“Yes, that sweater, is very flattering,” said Doug staring unabashedly at her large jutting breasts. He knew that Megan was married, and he was married himself, but he liked to imagine what it would be like to bed his middle aged coworker.

“My eyes are up here, Doug,” joked Megan, turned on by how brashly Doug was acting today.

“Yes, your eyes are very beautiful,” agreed Doug, never taking his gaze from Megan’s chest.

Megan felt a cool breeze as the air conditioner kicked on and her nipple stiffened visibly in her tight sweater. Doug wagged his eyebrows at Megan suggestively. “Your headlights are on,” he said, giving her a lewd wink.

“Oh, Doug, you are terrible,” said Megan, covering her nipples with her hands modestly. Her face was flushed red with excitement.

“I know I am,” said Doug casually. “Hey, when are you going to invite me over for dinner?”

“You and Frida are always welcome to join John and I for dinner,” said Megan lightly. She hated to bring up their spouses while flirting, but it couldn’t be helped.

Doug frowned at the mention of his wife and the erection inspired by Megan’s snugly fitting top began to subside. “Frida doesn’t really care to socialize with my work friends,” said Doug. “Couldn’t just you and I have dinner some night when John was out of town on business?”

“Doug, that wouldn’t be appropriate,” said Megan weakly, her heart pounding at the idea of a dinner date with Doug. His face fell at the rejection, so she quickly added, “I’ll tell you what though, why not come over tonight and join John and I for dinner? It’s our night to watch a movie at home.”

Doug stopped staring at Megan’s breasts for a moment and looked her in the eye with a calculating expression. He wondered if she was testing him, trying to see how much chutzpah he had. “Alright, Megan, I will take you up on your offer,” he said.

Megan briefly wondered if she was doing the right thing to invite her work flirt home to meet her husband, but John paid so little attention to her these days that he probably wouldn’t even notice the sexual tension between her and Doug. So she smiled warmly at Doug and gave him her address.

“Sounds good, see you at 7 tonight then,” said Doug. “And I expect you to answer the door naked,” he said with a grin.

“We’ll see,” laughed Megan, her pulse quickening. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

The rest of the day seemed to crawl past as Megan anxiously awaited dinner with Doug. She wondered if John would go to bed early or just doze off in his chair as was his habit on movie night. She wondered what would happen if she and Doug were together alone on the couch in the dark.

When she finally arrived at home, she rushed to prepare a nice steak dinner for Doug.

“What’s this?” asked her husband John when he came home from work. He came over and gave Megan a perfunctory peck on the cheek as she stood cooking at the stove. “Steak huh? What’s the occasion?”

Megan gulped nervously and tried to sound nonchalant. “Oh, I invited my coworker Doug over for dinner tonight,” she said with a weak smile. “You remember Doug. He was at the office Christmas party.”

“But it’s our movie night,” said John peevishly. But in truth, he actually looked forward to having company. He loved his wife, but they had fallen into a deep rut and movie night had become a bore. John recalled that Doug was a funny guy. Maybe he would liven up the evening.

“I know honey,” said Megan pursing her lips and furrowing her brow sympathetically. “But it will be a nice change of pace to have company for once.”

“Maybe you’re right,” agreed John amiably, grabbing a beer from the refrigerator and heading off to the living room to watch television.

Doug arrived right on time at 7 and he brought a nice bottle of wine. They all enjoyed a friendly supper with Doug and John engaging in a lively discussion about the local football team which had made the playoffs. Megan was beginning to feel slightly neglected and oddly jealous of Doug’s attention to her husband. But as soon as her husband left the room Doug resumed his flirtation with a vengeance.

“I’m very disappointed that you were fully clothed when you answered the door,” said Doug softly, leaning forward and gazing into Megan’s eyes. “Dinner would have been so much more interesting if you had heeded my request and gotten naked for me.”

“Ha, it would have given us something to talk about other than football, I’ll grant you that,” replied Megan merrily. The idea of entertaining Doug and her husband in the nude both aroused and amused her. She was sure that John would have a heart attack if she ever tried something like that.

Doug had enjoyed a few glasses of wine, and his inhibitions were down, so he put his cards on the table. “Well I have to keep John distracted with football talk so he doesn’t realize that I want to have sex with his wife.” He gave Megan a crooked smile, but in that moment they both knew that he wasn’t joking.

“Really?” said Megan, her voice cracking slightly. She could feel her palms growing sweaty with excitement. “I didn’t realize you felt that way,” she said absently, unable to make eye contact with Doug.

“Oh, you realized it alright,” laughed Doug. “I think I’ve made it perfectly clear at work.”

“Made what perfectly clear?” asked John jovially as he returned to the dining room.

Megan was startled so badly that she nearly jumped out of her chair, but neither man noticed.

“Oh, I’ve made it clear how tired I am of working at that damn place,” rejoined Doug smoothly. “But the job market is tough, so I stick with it nonetheless.”

“I hear you, brother,” agreed John, shaking his head ruefully.

“Ok, boys,” said Megan brightly. “Why don’t you two clear the table while I go change out of these work clothes?”

“Yeah, you must barely be able to breathe in that sweater,” said Doug cheekily, giving John a sideways glance to judge his reaction.

John just laughed heartily at the slightly bawdy joke and Megan chuckled along awkwardly, “Yes, well, I’ll be back in a few and we can open another bottle of wine and start the movie.” She hurried off to the bedroom as Doug and John helpfully cleared the dirty dishes.

“You noticed how tight that sweater was, huh,” said John looking over at Doug mischievously once his wife was out of earshot.

“I have to admit I did notice, John,” said Doug matter-of-factly.

John bit his lip to hold back his laughter. “She’s got quite a rack on her, doesn’t she?” he asked.

Doug was surprised at John’s candor and simply responded in kind. “I’ll say, you are a lucky man, my friend,” he said with a lascivious grin and the two men broke out in raucous laughter as Doug pictured what Megan’s breasts would look like if she stood topless before him.

Megan heard the laughter from the kitchen as she stripped off her sweater and unsnapped her bra. Her large bosoms came spilling out, and she heaved a sigh of relief as she rubbed them absently. She wriggled out of her skirt, stripped off her stockings, and stood contemplating her body in the mirror. She had gained a bit of weight over the years, but she had retained her hourglass figure. She looked herself over critically and decided that she didn’t look too bad for a woman of 42. Then she went to the closet and pondered what to wear. She briefly considered putting on a sexy negligee and going out to rejoin her husband and Doug as though that were perfectly natural. The very idea made her giggle to herself like a schoolgirl, but she knew she would never have the guts.

She settled on a nice pair of sweatpants that were comfortable but well fitted enough for company. For a top, she slipped into a t-shirt. Her breasts were jiggling and her nipples were poking through without a bra on, so she pulled a light cardigan over the t-shirt and headed back out to the kitchen.

“Oh, I was hoping you would come out here in a slinky negligee,” commented Doug sarcastically when he saw how modestly Megan was dressed.

John slapped Doug on the shoulder and laughed along rowdily. Megan could tell that John was a little drunk, so she opened her cardigan and shimmied her shoulders to make her boobs bounce back and forth. The two men stared in fascination at the motion of her knockers before Megan blushed deeply and pulled her cardigan closed.

“Wow,” said Doug, clearly impressed.

John just laughed even harder and strode over to his wife to kiss her on the cheek and slap her bottom playfully.

“You don’t need to wear lingerie to be sexy with that damn body,” said John lustily.

“Thank you honey, that’s sweet,” said Megan, looking at her husband warmly.

“I’ll drink to that,” said Doug with a wicked smile and he poured out more glasses of wine and handed them around.

The trio adjourned to the living room together to watch a movie. John wasn’t bothered by Doug’s flirting, in fact he found that he enjoyed having another man pay attention to Megan. He realized that he took her for granted a lot lately. She was still a sexy woman, and it was perfectly natural for other men to take notice of that fact.

“So what movie should we watch, gentlemen?” asked Megan formally, holding her wine and bending over to examine the rack of DVD’s. Doug stared unabashedly at Megan’s gorgeous round rear as she bent over. John noticed Doug’s interest in his wife’s bottom, but he was surprised that it didn’t make him very jealous.

“How about Showgirls?” blurted out John as he sank into his favorite recliner.

“Oh honey,” laughed Megan nervously. “That’s a very naughty movie. I don’t think it’s appropriate to watch… with a guest over,” she smiled lamely at Doug as she said it. Her husband must be drunker than she thought.

“Nonsense,” objected John merrily. “We are all adults here, aren’t we?” he said. “Put it on.”

Megan looked at Doug inquisitively.

“I haven’t seen it,” said Doug with a smile. “Is there a lot of nudity?”

“You’ll see,” said Megan with resignation and she put in the movie and turned down the lights.

Doug sat down on the daybed which was Megan’s customary place to sit in the evening and she hesitated to join him there.

“Doug took your seat, huh?” commented John, noticing his wife’s uncertainty.

“Ha, we really have our routine, don’t we,” laughed Megan.

“Oh, I can sit somewhere else,” said Doug, looking around the room but not actually standing up to move.

“No, no, there’s plenty of room here for both of us,” said Megan, sitting down next to Doug on the daybed where she liked to stretch out and relax each evening.

As the outrageously bad movie stumbled from one gratuitous sex scene to another, the threesome mocked the bad acting but were drawn into the sensuality nonetheless. Doug and John both had raging hardons and Megan felt herself getting wet. As they went through the wine she found herself snuggling up against Doug and he slipped one arm around her back surreptitiously. John didn’t seem to notice and in fact seemed to be nodding off slightly as was his habit after a long day at work, a good meal, and a lot of wine.

“Are you tired dear?” asked Megan lightly as Doug ran his hand hungrily up and down her side while sexy dancers thrust their crotches into the air on the screen before them.

“No, no, I’m fine,” mumbled John sleepily, nodding off in his comfortable chair.

Megan reached down and gripped Doug’s thigh and started rubbing his leg in a more than friendly manner. Her heart was pounding with excitement and her body was hot from the wine and from arousal. She couldn’t believe that she and Doug were feeling each other up right in front of her husband while he was distracted by the titillating movie and his own drowsiness. Doug started getting more and more aggressive and he slipped his hand under Megan’s t-shirt and slid it up her side closer and closer to her boob. Her breath came faster and faster until she was practically panting when he finally gripped her bare breast in his hand and sought out her nipple with his fingers.

John glanced over and saw Doug and his wife rubbing up against each other and he snapped to attention slightly. “Hey, what are you guys doing over there?” he asked good naturedly.

Megan clamped her arm down trapping Doug’s wrist in her armpit. Then she released it and pushed him away slightly as he hurriedly withdrew his hand from her shirt. Doug’s own heart was racing and his erection was pitching an obvious tent in his trousers.

“Doug was just tickling me, dear,” lied Megan. “But it’s all in good fun,” she added lamely.

“That’s my wife you are feeling up over there,” said John with a smile. “Show some respect, fella,” he added with a nervous chuckle. He had enjoyed a bit of harmless flirting between Doug and his wife, but John was starting to get jealous of how Megan and Doug were snuggling together on the daybed there. He was starting to regret his choice of movie. Maybe it was getting everyone a little overheated.

“You know this movie is considered one of the worst of all time,” said John, trying to sound light-hearted. “Maybe we should put something else on.”

“I’m enjoying it actually,” said Doug languidly, shifting on the daybed to try to hide his erection. “It has excellent character development.”

“Liar, you just like the boobs,” laughed Megan, punching Doug’s shoulder playfully.

“Well I do like boobs, I can’t deny that,” said Doug, giving Megan a smoldering look of passion.

“Heh, heh, yeah, well, I guess we can leave it on then,” said John, but he felt his stomach twisting with jealousy at how familiar Megan was being with Doug. He drank a bit more wine and started to relax and was soon drawn into the movie as another sex scene commenced.

“I’m usually just stretch out on this, do you mind if I lay down here?” asked Megan softly.

“Go right ahead,” said Doug. “Shall I cover you?” he asked, noticing the blanket folded at the back of the daybed.

“Yes, please,” said Megan stiffly. “Why don’t you lay down behind me?”

“And spoon you?” whispered Doug.

“Yes,” replied Megan. “Cover us with the blanket.”

As the two coworkers rearranged themselves on the daybed with Megan laying in front and Doug laying behind her, John roused himself and took notice.

“Now what are you doing over there?” he asked, trying to hide the annoyance in his voice.

“I’m just stretching out like I always do dear,” said Megan innocently.

“And he’s going to lay there with you?” asked John. His head was fuzzy with wine and sleepiness.

“I guess so,” said Megan pulling the blanket up to her neck.

“Uh, huh,” replied John helplessly. He didn’t like this arrangement, but he was too muddled to think of a polite way to object.

Doug wasted no time and immediately gripped Megan by the hips and started grinding his stiff boner up against her soft round ass. Megan gasped in response and reached back to pinch the bulge in Doug’s pants between her fingers. Doug grunted in response and brazenly slid his hands up the front of Megan’s t-shirt, gripping one large breast in each hand and kneading them greedily as she squeezed his cock through his pants. John sat watching them wriggle and shift under the blanket.

“What the hell ARE you two doing under that blanket?” snapped John testily, growing deeply suspicious.

“Nothing dear, my goodness,” panted Megan, feigning nonchalance as Doug gripped her boobs in his hands and pinched her nipples. “We are just getting readjusted over here.”

“Yeah, what if I came over there and pulled the cover off you two?” demanded John hotly.

“Well then I would be cold,” pouted Megan sweetly.

John didn’t know how to respond to that it really appeared to him as though Doug was touching his wife’s breasts under that blanket and his stomach flipped with anxiety at thought, but he was tired and drunk and couldn’t think of the right way to handle this.

“I just need to get adjusted a little more,” said Doug to John and he gripped Megan’s sweatpants by the waist and slid them down to her knees along with her panties while she clutched the blanket to her neck and her heart pounded in her chest like a drum. Megan’s bare ass was pressed up against Doug’s jeans under the blanket and he took a minute to run his hands over her smooth butt cheeks before unzipping his fly carefully so it didn’t make too loud a sound. Her gaze flicking nervously between the movie and her her husband.

John noticed Megan looking at him and gave her a mistrustful frown as Doug freed his cock and started pressing it between Megan’s thighs.

“What’s the matter?” asked John grumpily as the head of Doug’s long stiff penis found its way between the folds of Megan’s swollen labia.

“Nothing at all darling,” gasped Megan breathlessly. “I was just thinking how much I love you.”

John was utterly disarmed by his wife’s sincere sounding proclamation. Doug bit his lip to keep from snorting at the irony of it all and forcefully thrust his cock into Megan’s how wet cunt from behind. She stuck her fist into her mouth to keep from crying out in passion as John looked at her strangely. Doug left his dick sunk deep inside Megan and longed to start poking it in and out of her, but her dared not for fear of drawing John’s attention. So he consoled himself by reach around Megan’s hip cautiously, careful not to disturb the blanket too much. He slid his hand around her hip and down into her crotch and soon found the slippery nub of her clitoris. She nearly choked in her effort to suppress a moan of pleasure.

John’s attention was drawn back to the movie as a group of erotic dancers froliced in the nude on screen. Doug peeked over Megan’s shoulder at John in his recliner and started working his dick slowly in and out of John’s wife fingering her clit the whole time while she whimpered soundlessly. He felt himself growing closer and closer to climax as her hot wet snatch gripped his stiff rod. Soon the daybed was creaking rhythmically with his efforts and John sat up in his chair.

“Christ Doug, are you dry humping my wife over there?” he demanded groggily, the wine fogging his mind and his vision.

“What? No of course not,” protest Doug as he increased his pace, thrusting his cock between Megan’s soft thighs and into her sodden snatch.

“But what’s all that rocking back and forth?” demanded John, taken aback but Doug’s boldness.

“I mean,no, I’m not dry humping her,” said Doug, reaching up and grasping Megan’s generous jugs in his palms again. The weight of them in his hands made his cock stiffen even more. For her part, Megan couldn’t believe that Doug would fuck her from behind and feel her up like this under the covers while talking to her husband. The sheer audacity of Doug and the wrongness of the situation brought her to climax. “I’m just, Oh shit,” exclaimed Doug as he felt Megan’s vagina tighten suddenly around his cock. She cried out in spite of herself as she came over and over.

“Megan, are you ok?” asked John climbing to his feet with concern.

“I mean we are just fooling around,” she gasped as Doug resumed humping her urgently and worked her boobs enthusiastically. “But you are making such a big deal out of it,” she whined, trying to sound offended and upset. Her face with bright red from passion and her breathing was fast and shallow.

“I’m sorry, baby,” said John contritely. “But this is, Jesus, Doug, will you stop dry-humping my damn wife please?” he demanded angrily, turning to Doug.

“Oh yeah, sorry bud,” panted Doug. He stopped humping her suddenly as he started spurting his load inside John’s wife. John looked on suspiciously as the commotion under the blanket suddenly ceased and Doug ground his crotch against Megans ass releasing the last of his seed inside her. Megan arched her back eagerly to receive his delivery. “I guess I got a little drunk and I got a bit carried away by having this big round ass right here,” admitted Doug, forgetting himself.

John laughed in spite of himself. “That’s a nice way to repay our hospitality. Grinding your crotch up against my wife’s rear.” He had a sinking suspicion that Doug also grabbed Megan’s boobs in addition to dry humping her, but he didn’t want to say it.

“I know, I know,” said Doug contritely, tucking his limp sodden cock back into his pants and zipping up quietly. He extracted himself deftly from under the cover, leaving Megan completely covered but with her pants down and he jumped off the daybed. “That was really out of bounds,” he said, running his hands nervously through his hair. “I uh, don’t know how to apologize properly.”

John sighed drunkenly at Doug’s demonstration while Megan surreptitiously pulled her sweatpants back up. “Ok, Ok, I see how this happened. We had too much to drink and put on a movie with too much sexytime. I am partly to blame for picking the movie and for laughing along with your flirtation. Let’s just call it a night and talk it over another time when we are all sober.”

“Ok, John. That’s big of you,” said Doug with a deep frown of respect. Then he turn to Megan, stretched out luxuriously on the daybed. “I am sorry for getting carried away, Megan. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Forgive you? I thoroughly enjoyed it,” she laughed saucily. “We should do it again sometime. Soon.”

“Megan!” exclaimed John in exasperation. “You aren’t helping matters here.”

She looked up at her husband and shrugged, “Sorry, I guess I’m drunk,” she admitted.

Doug just laughed and waved goodbye, “I will let you two sort this out then, thanks for the hospitality.” Then he hurried out of the room.

“Yeah, yeah,” said John, waving him off dismissively. “Honey, how could you say that?” he whined petulantly.

“Please don’t cry like a baby,” she sighed in resignation. “It doesn’t suit you. We were only fooling around. It was completely harmless.”
Doug walked down the driveway and looked up at the stars, breathing in the cool night air. It was a good night to be alive and not to have been beaten up by a jealous husband.

Gustav Jorgenson’s cuckold stories:
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Exhibitionist Wife Tales: 15 stories of wives cheating in public
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Art Photography Shoot

By Gustav Jorgenson

Excerpted from: “Exhibitionist Wife Tales

My wife Linda had been working as a model since was in her twenties.  Just small time stuff, like ads for the local department store or carpet liquidators.  So you know, she’s good looking, but not exactly a supermodel or anything.  As she got older, the job offers sort of dropped off.  The market for middle aged local models was pretty slim.  We didn’t really need the money or anything, but Linda liked to keep busy, and it annoyed her that she was having such a hard time finding work.  So one night, she invited a successful photographer named Roger over to dinner to ask his advice.

We had just settled in the living room with some glasses of wine after a nice meal when Linda started pressing Roger on the question of work.

“So tell, Roger, is anyone you know looking for a middle aged beauty past her bloom?” joked Linda with a playful toss of her head.

“Ah, you still look wonderful, Linda.” He lifted his glass to her.  “To your unfading gorgeousness!”

“Hear, hear,” I agreed, and we drank a toast to my wife’s good looks.  She still did look nice of course.  She still had a slim figure, and a nice rack.  Though her tits have started sagging a bit lately.  And of course she was starting to get a few wrinkles around her eyes and wasn’t quite as fresh looking as when she had been in her twenties.

“But I can’t find any work, Roger!” complained my wife.  She was kicking her legs in frustration and since she was wearing a pretty short dress, I saw Roger checking out her exposed legs.  I never really trusted these photographers.  They are a bunch of perverts in my view.

“I know, I know, the market is tough right now,” he said.  He was pursing his lips as his eyes lingered on my wife’s shapely calves.  If this guy kept checking out my wife like that, I was inclined to say something to him.  But I know Linda was hoping he would get her some work, so I bit my tongue and tried to keep my cool.

“It’s only tough for us old, over the hill types,” shot back Linda.

“Come on, Linda,” complained Roger.  He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

‘Honestly, Roger, isn’t there ANYTHING out there for me?  My agent won’t reply to my emails anymore.  I’m at wits end.  I want to work.  I go nuts penned up in the house all day.”  Linda was getting agitated and I felt a pang of guilt for some reason.  Haven’t I given my wife a nice house and a good life?  Why was she so unsatisfied?

Roger rubbed his face and gave me a worried look.  “Ah, do you know Giuseppe Roma?”

Linda scrunched up her face, a far away look on her face as she gazed at the ceiling.  “Yes, that Italian.   He’s a art photographer, right?  He does a lot of nudes.”

Roger looked at me again, a nervous expression on his face.  “Right, that’s the one.”

“Now hold on,” I said, holding up my hand.  “No wife of mine is going to start doing pornography.  Go do volunteer work with the poor if you want to get out of the house.”  The very idea of my pretty little wife getting naked for some Italian greaseball made my blood boil.

“Now Sam, settle down,” coaxed Roger. “This guy is a real artist.  He shows in some of the best galleries in LA and New York.  He’s not some cheap pornographer.”

“Yeah, honey, let’s not rush to judgment,” agreed Linda.  But I could tell that she was less than enthused about the idea of doing nude modelling.  I relaxed somewhat when I saw how squeamish she looked.  “But Roger, you know, I’m no spring chicken any more.”  My wife tried to force a laugh.  “I mean, things are getting a little saggy,” she cupped her generous bosom in her hands and gave him a twisted smile.  “Gravity takes it’s toll.”

“Well, Roma likes to work with real women, if you know what I mean,” said Roger delicately.  “He, uh, doesn’t go in for that airbrushed sort of fashion magazine look in his portraits.  The feminists revere his work and say that he promotes, what’s the phrase?   ‘Positive body image’ or something.”

“So he shoots fat chicks and old bags?” smirked Linda.

Roger looked pained.  “I don’t about that.  Look, I only brought him up because you seemed so, forgive me saying this, but you seem desperate for work.  I know you are a married woman and you haven’t done work like that before, so if it makes you uncomfortable, just forget I mentioned Roma.”

Linda seemed crestfallen and she sat there with her knees together and feet skewed to either side, holding her wine in her lap with both hands and contemplating it solemnly.

I hated to see my wife so miserable, my heart was breaking at the sight.

“Can’t you find her anything respectable, Roger?” I asked.

Roger frowned at me.  “I’m telling you, Sam.  Roma is actually very respectable.  Seriously.”  I gave him an icy glare.  “But I will ask around for regular work, I promise.”

“Come on, Roger, would you allow YOUR wife to pose nude for some strange man?” I asked with some annoyance.  Then a thought occurred to me,  “And then, and then, have her naked pictures on gallery walls all over, with thousands of people looking at them, and men leering and whatnot?”  The idea made my stomach churn as I thought of all those strange men looking at my naked wife.

“Well, you know, I’m not married,  Sam,” he said.  “But I think you are being a little uptight about it.  My girlfriend has done some nude modelling.  Very tasteful stuff.  It doesn’t bother me in the least.  She has a wonderful body, it should be appreciated.  The female form is a thing of beauty.  Of course men like to look, and they get excited, but that doesn’t diminish my relationship with my woman in any way.”  Roger pursed his lip thoughtfully and took a drink of wine.

I just scoffed at him.  “I knew it!  You photographers are all perverts.”

“Stop it, Sam,” sighed Linda.  “Roger’s right.  Artists have been portraying nude women for centuries.  There’s nothing perverted in it.  I would even consider doing that sort of work myself if I wasn’t so insecure about my decaying figure.”

“You still have an amazing body, honey,” I told her dutifully.

“Yes you do,” agreed Roger.  He eyed my wife’s boobs.  “Hey, listen, Roma’s got a show tonight at a gallery in Uptown.  Why don’t we head over there and take a look, get a sense of what sort of pictures we are talking about.”

“What, right now?” I said in surprise.

“Sure, why not?” asked Roger.  “I’ll introduce you to Giuseppe myself.”

“Yes, let’s go and meet him at least,” agreed Linda, brightening up a bit.  “I’m not committing to anything, but I will go meet him and see his photos.”

“Really?” I asked.  I was feeling slightly nervous.

“What’s the matter, Sam?” asked my wife.  “Don’t you want to go look at pictures of naked women?”

“Well when you put it that way,” I laughed.  “Let’s go.”

We were all pretty drunk by that time, so we summoned an Uber and got a ride within a few minutes.

The gallery was on a dingy side street lined with auto repair shops, but once we got inside, it was an amazing, high-ceilinged art space done up with tastefully concealed lighting.  A real bastion of gentrification the activists might say. It was one of those places that got mobbed with crowds of hipsters on first Fridays when they shut down this part of town and held a big street party for Art Murmur each month.

On this night, the place was filled with men in suits and women in fancy cocktail dresses and I felt a little underdressed in my shirtsleeves without a jacket.  The entire space was so classy seeming that I was utterly taken aback when I saw the first set of photos.  They were pretty salacious.  It was a series of pictures of a very pale naked white woman, her bush somewhat unruly and her hair a mess, not wearing any makeup, standing in a bare white room with a huge naked black man.  He was oiled up and sporting a shocking erection in every picture.  At first they were just facing each other, but as the pictures progressed, they got closer, until they were hugging, the man’s stiff black boner poking off to the side of the woman’s hip.  Then the woman was down on her knees before the black man, her hands on HIS hips, his boner just inches from her face as she looked at it dispassionately.  I felt my own penis growing stiff but it felt weird to pop a boner in this tony crowd.

“Uh, wow,” gasped my wife.  She fanned her face as we looked at the photos together.

“Yeah, um, it looks like Roma’s work has gotten a little more, uh, intense since the last time I saw it.” Roger seemed sort of chagrined.

A pixieish, middle-aged woman with short blonde hair stuck her face in front of mine suddenly.  “What do you think of this piece?” she asked.  She was wearing a black leotard and cat eye glasses as she fixed me with a intense blue-eyed gaze.

“It’s, well… it seems pornographic really,” I admitted.  “I know I’ll sound like an ignoramus for saying it, but that’s what I see.  I’m no art major, I’m just a tech guy.”  I felt apologetic and was prepared to be berated by the arty hipster woman.

To my relief, she just laughed.  “Of course it’s pornographic, silly.  What world do we live in?  Giuseppe doesn’t shy away from the zeitgeist.  He works with the language of the media of our time.”  Then she noticed Roger.  “Oh Roger, darling.  So wonderful to see you.”  She kissed Roger on each cheek.  “Are these your friends?”

Roger smiled at the hipstress.  “Hello, Luna.  You are looking marvelous as usual.”  To which Luna simply turned her head and fanned her fingers at him coquettishly.  “And yes, this is Sam and Linda.  Linda is a model, you know.”  

“Oh yes?” asked Luna, turning to my wife with interest.  She grabbed Linda’s hands and held them out to each side.  “Oh, yes!  Oh, yes!  What a plausible beauty!  Did you bring her to meet Giuseppe?”

“Plausible?” Linda asked in confusion.

“She did express some interest in seeing Guiseppe’s photos.  She’s been looking for work herself.  But I think this… phase… he’s in might be too, uh, intense for her,” said Roger.  He was trying to be diplomatic, I could tell.

Luna leaned toward my wife conspiratorially.  “You’re not much of a slut, are you?” she asked in a stage whisper.

My wife just looked at the kooky art woman and laughed.  “No, not really I guess.”

“We can fix that,” said Luna.  She took my wife by the hand and started to lead her away.  “Let’s go show you to Giuseppe.”

“Um,” I said, holding up a finger.  

But Luna just stuck her tongue out at me and lead my wife away.  Linda shrugged and laughed nervously.  I wanted to object more strongly but the devilish little woman was too disarming.  So Roger and I picked up the rear as the imp lead us up a flight of stairs to another gallery.  This appeared to be some sort of VIP area and was guarded by a big black bouncer in a tuxedo.  He recognized Luna and smiled to let us pass.

The crowd was thinner up here, and less fancy.  Some people were dressed really sloppily and I assumed that they were other artists.  Luna made a beeline to the back of the room with my wife in tow where we found a short, grey haired mediterranean man in his fifties talking to a tall thin black woman in a tiny dress with a huge afro.  The man had dark eyes and an animated expression as he was talking to the black woman and his purple silk shirt was open halfway to his waist, exposing a chest covered in gnarly grey hair.  He stopped short when Luna appeared with my wife and he immediately fixed Linda with a fierce gaze.

“What have you brought me, Luna?” he hissed.

“Look for yourself,” laughed the elven woman, pushing my wife forward.  Linda blushed bashfully as Giuseppe inspected her with a critical eye.  “Roger brought her for you.”

“Ah, not exactly, Guiseppe, we were just talking it over, you know,” coughed Roger.  “She might not be ready…”

“She’s hot,” commented the tall black woman with a lewd grin.  “I’d do her.”

“Did you come to model for me?” Guiseppe asked my wife.  He cocked his head to one side with his eyes drilling into my wife.  His stare was intense and Linda stammered under his gaze.

“I, uh, I was just telling Roger that I wanted to work,” said my flustered wife.  “Older women like me can’t find much work these days you know.  It’s frustrating.”

The stocky Italian artist nodded seriously, acknowledging her point.

“But she can’t pose in these sort of pictures like you have downstairs,” I interjected.  “She’s a married woman.”

Guiseppe’s serious expression transformed into a gleeful grin.  “And who are you?  Her husband?  What circus have your brought me, Luna?”

“I promised I would make a slut of her,” said Luna proudly.

“You called me plausible,” said Linda in wonderment.  She seemed totally bemused by these strange people.  We didn’t spend much time around artists.  They seemed insane to me.

Guiseppe and the black woman broke out in tremendous laughter.  

“Oh, she’s entirely plausible, Luna.” gasped the black woman.  She was wiping tears from her eyes.  

“Yes, you are plausible,” grinned Giuseppe, facing my wife.  “I want you to model for me.  Will you model for me?”

Linda looked back at me with indecision.  “My husband…” she said indecisively.

Giuseppe looked at me in confusion.  “I don’t understand.  What are you doing here?  Your wife said she is looking for work.  She is sufficient for my needs.  I will give her work.”

“She is sufficient?” I asked sarcastically.  “Is that how you describe your models?”

Giuseppe turned his gaze to my wife and put his hand on his chin.  “I think so,” he said.  “I would need to see her nude to say for sure.  Take off your dress, darling.”

“What?” croaked my wife in shock.

“Go ahead,” he said motioning to her impatiently.  “Take off your dress so I can see your body.”

“I’ll help if you want,” purred the black woman lasciviously.

“What, right here in front of everyone?” asked my wife.  She was looking around at the bohemians milling about.

“Now see here!” I objected.

“Tut, tut, are you a model or not, dear?” asked Guiseppe with a shake of the head.

“Of course I’m a model,” said my wife, drawing herself up indignantly.  “I’m a very plausible and sufficient model.”  Giuseppe, Luna, and the black woman broke out laughing at that.  Even Roger cracked a grin, and I had to smile along in spite of my trepidation.  “But I usually get a dressing room to change in.”

“Bah, these are all my friends here,” said Giuseppe.  “Take off your clothes and show us your body.”

“Is she going to get naked?” asked a good looking young white guy with a big beard and crewcut.  I hate these hipster looks, so incongruous.

“Certainly not!” I sputtered.

“Look at the jealous husband!  How darling!” The black woman pointing a mocking finger at me.  “He doesn’t want to share his property.”

“I don’t have time for this.  You have piqued my interest now,” said Giuseppe.  He strode forward toward my wife.  “Turn around.” He pointed at my wife with such a commanding tone that she instantly obeyed.  “Good,” he grunted. “You take direction well.  I am unzipping your dress now.”  And he did.  The cheeky bastard unzipped my wife’s dress right there in front of everyone.

“Whoa, oh my goodness, Giuseppe,” exclaimed my wife in shock.  She looked around as a crowd started to gather around her.

“Luna, help me undress her,” instructed Giuseppe.   The little pixie slipped my wife’s dress up over her head in a flash.  Poor Linda was standing there in her bra and panties in the middle of a fancy art gallery surrounded by appreciative hipsters.  Giuseppe put his hand on his chin and nodded.  “Turn around,” he told my wife, twirling his finger so imperiously that she immediately complied.

“Now hold on one minute!” I blubbered and pushed the bearded crewcut guy out of my way so I could go intervene.  But before I could grab my wife’s dress and help her put it on again, the tall black woman interceded and put her hand on my chest.

“Hey man, cool it,” she whispered urgently in my ear.  “Giuseppe and Luna are tripping on shrooms right now, and I promised to babysit them.  You can’t get all macho man with them, you are gonna freak them out.”

I stared up at the woman with her amazing afro haloing out in all directions and she nodded insistently.  She sure seemed earnest.

“But, my wife…” I pointed at Linda standing half naked in front of all these strangers.

“She looks great! Why are you so uptight?” The black woman was enthusiastic.

“Luna!” shouted Giuseppe suddenly.  “Go get my camera, right now.  We are doing a shoot, right now, right here.”  Luna saluted and ran off.

“Wait, what?” gasped Linda.

“Look at you, you are amazing!” he shouted at my wife, waving his arms maniacally.  He was so obviously tripping that I can’t believe I didn’t notice before.  I had seen friends trip back in college.  “Take off your bra, we are about to get started.”

Linda covered her chest with the palms of her hands and glanced over at me guiltily.  “Sam’s going to freak out,” she said.

“Sam will be fine,” insisted the black woman.  She gripped me around the shoulder with a surprisingly powerful grasp.  “Roger and I will keep him in check.”

“I will?” asked Roger hesitantly.  But when the black woman glared at him, he came and stood on the other side of me.  “Yeah, sure, I will help calm Sam down, of course.”  He forced a laugh.  “I mean, it’s just a photo shoot, Sam, no big deal.”

“But all these people are standing around!” I gestured at crew cut beard guy who was watching my wife expectantly, licking his lips as he waited for her to disrobe further.

“There are always a bunch of people milling around at a photoshoot,” explained Roger.

“But I’ve never really done a nude shoot before,” my wife told Giuseppe weakly.  She was trying to cover her body bashfully with her arms, but it wasn’t working well, her shapely form was already almost fully exposed.

“I know, that’s what makes this such an authentic moment,” enthused Giuseppe. Luna appeared with some ridiculously high end looking camera.  “I need LIGHT!” shouted Giuseppe so loud that I jumped.  “Your vulnerability, your embarrassment.” He was speaking quickly as he snapped photos of my wife, cringing half-naked surrounded by hip onlookers.  “You wear your heart on your sleeve,” he said.  The lights suddenly came up full blast and the gallery was flooded with blinding white light.

“Holy shit!” I gasped, holding up my hands to shield my eyes.

“Well, you know, you need light to shoot pictures,” said Roger.  He was ogling my wife’s gorgeous form along with the rest of them.

Poor Linda was squirming shyly as Giuseppe walked around her, snapping away madly.  Her white skin glowing under the blinding gallery lights above.  I stopped to admire her long legs and wide hips.  She had a little pot belly now, but it just enhanced her shapeliness in my view.  She tried to cover her big hanging breasts, barely held up by her bra, but they were too big to cover.  

“What, what, am I supposed to be doing?” my wife asked the madly tripping Italian as he prowled around her.  She was blushing prettily and her cheeks were pink.

“You are doing it!  Standing, exposed and objectified, mortified by the public exposure of your body,” gushed Giuseppe.  “As all women today, you are made into a product to be consumed by a hungry public.”

“Weeeerd!” agreed the black woman at my side, nodding her head.

“Oh, I think I get it.”  My wife straightened up a little.  “It’s like a metaphor.”

“Yes, an allegory! You see!  I see you, coming to terms with your place in the world.  I am capturing it all.  Luna, this is going to be, I don’t know, one of the best, I am sure.   Makeup, hair and makeup!” The hairy old man motioned impatiently at his pixie assistant.

“Oh, right, I need some makeup, of course,” chuckled my wife, patting her cheeks.

“Oh, no, not at all,” replied Luna, rushing to my wife with a baby wipe.  “We need to take OFF your makeup.  Your defenses are down, and you are naked and vulnerable without the armor of makeup we women use to defend ourselves.”  And the little pixie rapidly and efficiently wiped any trace of makeup from my wife’s face while she stood there in shock.  Then Luna pulled randomly at my wife’s hair, messing it up.

Poor Linda must have been REALLY freaking out at that point.  She never set foot outside the house without being perfectly made up with every hair in place.  I think she would rather walk around naked than go out with messy hair.

“Oh my god, you can’t do this me,” squawked my wife.  She was pawing at her hair obsessively.  “I must look awful!  I look OLD!”

“Let your shields down,” coaxed Giuseppe.  He was snapping pictures the whole time.  “Face the world as you ARE!”

“I think you look wonderful honey,” I said.  Linda gave me a grateful smile.  And she DID look good.  She has gotten older of course, I could see the bags under her eyes.  But she looked real.  This is the beauty I see when she rolls out of bed in the morning.

“You look natural, totally alluring,” said Roger.  He was clapping his hands in approval.  Several others in the crowd murmured encouragement and compliments.  The good looking white hipster beside us clapped along too.

“Oh my gosh, you guys,” said my wife.  “You are making me blush!”

“This is good, this is good, time to bring in DeShawn.” Giuseppe was gesturing passionately.  “DeShawn, come here!  Come here!”

The big black bouncer in the tux came lumbering over.  He was built like a linebacker, over six feet tall and he must have weighed 250 lbs.  “What’s up, boss, Ooooh, shit,” he said when he saw my wife.  He covered his face and laughed.  “Some crazy shit going on up in here.”

“DeShawn, meet, ahh,” Giuseppe paused in confusion for a moment, which seemed strange after his non-stop flow.

“Linda,” prompted my wife.   DeShawn shyly offered her his hand to shake, and Giuseppe captured the moment on camera.  The huge black man, fully dressed to the nines, timidly shaking hands with a half-naked white woman, pale as ivory, surrounded by the crowd of modern day beatniks.  It was pretty kinky actually, even I had to admit.

“I need you for this shoot, DeShawn,” ordered Giuseppe.  “You and Linda are going to get naked together and rub oil all over one another.”

“For realz?” laughed DeShawn.  He was covering his face bashfully again.  “Oh noes! You gotta be kidding me.”

“Look at that big man, afraid of a naked little white woman!” teased the black woman with the afro.

“Don’t play, Yolanda,” he told her.

“You seen the pictures downstairs, nigga,” laughed Yolanda.  “You think anybody playin’ wit you?  You know what Giuseppe do!”

DeShawn just stared at Yolanda with an open mouth and then he looked at my wife, who avoided his gaze in embarrassment.

“Ok, yeah, this is just going a little too far now,” I piped up.  “I mean, you know, getting naked and oil rubbing and all that.”  But as I said it and pictured my wife doing that with this big black man, my penis grew more and more erect. All this in spite of the fact that my stomach was roiling with shame and jealousy.

“You are not getting it, man,” said Giuseppe with a dismissive wave of his hand.  “The black man and the white woman are in this together.  Both are sexualized and objectified by our society.  And racism divides them from each other.  But here we will make them vulnerable and they will administer salve to one another, or baby oil, whatever, don’t you see how beautiful this is?  DeShawn, take your clothes off, you have to be naked for this.  Don’t worry, we give you model pay on top of your security pay.”

“Shit man, I don’t know how to model,” complained DeShawn as he awkwardly started unhooking his cumberbund.

“That’s what I look for!” shouted Giuseppe.  “The REAL, the unaffected.  You think I want some prancing professional model putting on a show?”

“But I’m a model, I’m a professional,” insisted my wife.

Giuseppe laughed in her face.  “What have you done?”

“I did the, um, well I did some ad work for that used Toyota dealer on Broadway.  You know that big banner?”  

“Yes, yes, dear,” said Giuseppe condescendingly.  “I mean of course I never saw the banner, but I see what you are saying and you are just proving my point really.  Luna, take Linda’s bra and panties off her.  It is time.”

“Now wait!” I shouted as Linda cringed.  But Yolando gave me a little punch in the gut, just hard enough to knock the wind out of me a bit.  

“You settle, hubby, this is art in progress,” she hissed.

“Goddamn it,” I grumbled, rubbing my belly.

Luna deftly unhooked my wife’s bra and Linda’s big white breasts were revealed in all their glory.  Her pink nipples growing hard and bumpy in the cool air of the gallery.  DeShawn had gotten stripped down to his boxers by this point and he stared at my wife’s chest in gape jawed fascination.  His penis sprung to attention and his erection pitched a massive tent in his baggy shorts.

“Oh my gosh,” gasped my wife.  She drank in the sight of the big black man’s muscular legs and torso and then gazed with interest at the obscene bulge in his shorts.  Giuseppe giggled and captured the scene from several angles.

“I think he likes you,” laughed Luna.  “Or your boobs anyway.”  The crowd guffawed noisily, losing some of their cool and their distant hipster attitude at the sight of the bare chesty MILF before them.

“Omigosh, you guys!”  My wife covering was her nipples self consciously.  “He’s really popping a boner!”

“Yeah, uh, sorry,” apologized the big black man.  He was surprisingly sensitive and seem truly contrite about his erection.

“This is so beautiful,” said Giuseppe as he recorded the awkward moment between my wife and the bouncer with his boner.  “Take your shorts off, DeShawn.  Luna, take off Linda’s panties.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said, but this time Roger held me by the shoulder and everyone else ignored me as DeShawn guardedly lowered his boxers, allowing his huge manhood to come springing out.

“DAMN brutha!” commented Yolanda with appreciation.

“Oh wow!” agreed my wife.  She was staring with amazement at DeShawn’s massive dong and big hairy balls hanging down.  He stood there awkwardly while all the women in the room admired his massive package.  Luna took the opportunity to pull my wife’s panties down, revealing her furry bush to the room and making her squawk ith embarrassment.

“Luna!” choked my wife, and she struggled to keep one arm covering her nipples and one hand over her cooch.  But her bare white ass was there for all to see and enjoy and my own erection just grew harder and harder at the sight of my naked wife writhing self-consciously in front of this hip art crowd and also this big naked black man with his big black boner.

“Oh, yes, oh yes,” enthused Giuseppe.  His camera was drinking in the moments.  “This will be my finest series.  By far, by far.  Luna, bring the oil.”

“I have it here.” Luna was holding up a bottle of baby oil.

“Linda, I understand your discomfort at being nude in front of all these people and this big virile man.  And I want to capture and honor your emotions.  I am validating your experience.  Now, I need you to administer to DeShawn, and spread oil on his skin.  Look at him, he is nervous too.  Comfort him.”  Giuseppe used a soft and soothing tone to coax my wife into action, and it worked.

Linda took the bottle from Luna and approached the big black man, padding naked and barefoot across the room toward him while everyone watched with baited breath.  Myself included.

“Heh, this is so weird, isn’t it?” my wife asked DeShawn.  She was pouring some baby oil into her palm.

“Yeah, this is, um, some really fucked up shit,” he said.  His eyes kept flicking back and forth between my wife’s bouncing boobs and pink nipples to her broad hips and exposed bush. His erection was standing almost straight up.

“Wow, are you getting harder?” My wife examined his cock with interest and my blood was boiling.  

“Uh, I don’t know,” he lied.  “Maybe.”

“Ok, I’m just going to put some oil on your arm, OK?”  My wife was clearly flustered by the huge black erection before her.  I could tell she wanted to grab that big dick and it made me both sick and aroused at the same time.  What a strange feeling.  What a kinky scene.  But Linda restrained herself and she started rubbing oil onto DeShawn’s rock hard bicep.  “Jesus, you are like man of iron.  Your muscles are so HARD!” gushed my wife as she rubbed in the oil.

“Yeah, I work out,” he said humbly.  He turned toward my wife and his big dick slapped her on the hip.  “Oh shit, sorry.”

Linda gulped.  “Oh no, that’s fine, really. It was a mistake. I understand.”  Her eyes were bright with passion as she contemplated DeShawn’s pulsing member.  “Here. let me rub some oil on your belly.”

“Yes, yes,” urged Giuseppe taking pictures from many angles.

‘I’m not going to touch his penis, Giuseppe,” scolded my wife.

‘No, no, of course not,” replied the artist.  “Perish the thought.”

“Ok, here I go,” said my wife.  She licked her lips as she rubbed oil onto DeShawn’s washboard abdomen, going lower and lower, until she reached the edge of his pubic hair.  His cock was practically bouncing up and down as she rubbed his belly and he was biting his lip and perspiring profusely.  He must have been exercising a lot of willpower to keep from grabbing my sexy wife and fucking her right there in front of everyone.  “Are you making it go up and down?” asked my wife.  She was watching his dick acrobatics closely.

“YOU making it go up and down,” he grunted.

“Wow, ok, let’s take a break for a moment,” said my wife.  She fanned her face with her hand and was clearly flustered by her own arousal.

“You put some oil on Linda now, DeShawn,” insisted Luna, grabbing the bottle from my wife.

“Aw shit, should I?” DeShawn asked my wife.  His eyes were bright with passion.

My wife held her big boobs in her hands as she looked up, doe eyed, at the big bouncer.  “Um, yes, you can put some on my belly, but don’t touch my boobies.”

‘Right, right, ok,” agreed the black man quickly.  My stomach flipped as he put one big black paw onto my pale wife’s tender belly and he started rubbing oil on it in circles.

“Oh, oh,” moaned my wife as DeShawn got closer and closer to her crotch.

“Go, go!” urged Giuseppe, snapping frantically.

“Not so low,” Linda begged DeShawn.

“Oh, sorry,” he said and moved up higher on her torso.

Linda removed her hands from her boobs and they flopped down onto the back of DeShawn’s big hand, pinning it to her abdomen.

“Oops,” she said, grabbing up her boobs again.

“That wasn’t my fault,” he panted.  “I didn’t mean to touch them.”

“I know, I know,”  My wife was staring with longing at his big black cock, straining at attention before her.

“Put some oil on her legs,” cajoled Luna.

“Um, Ok,” said DeShawn.  He bent over until his face was practically in my wife’s muff and he started rubbing oil on her thighs and calves.

“Maybe you could put a little here too,” she offered, looking at me guiltily as she turned her foot outward and offered one inner thigh to DeShawn.

“Yeah, yeah, ok ,ok,” he said.  DeShawn’s tongue was literally hanging out of his mouth as he rubbed oil on my wife’s inner thigh.  His face was just inches from her cooch and his hand was sliding the oil up, higher and higher until the back of his hand was practically brushing her pubes.  My wife was moaning with pleasure as the black man was about to finger her, but I couldn’t take it anymore.

“No, no, come on, that’s, that’s just inappropriate!” I choked, holding my arms out in supplication to my wife.

“Oh, dear, oh dear,” panted my wife.  She grabbed DeShawn’s hand and pushed it down away from her vagina.  “I’m sorry, my husband, he’s freaking out of course.”

“Yeah, yeah, for sure, for sure,” gulped DeShawn and he stood up quickly, smacking my wife in the elbow with his cock.

“Oooh, watch that thing, you could hurt someone,” purred my wife.

“Oh, it would only hurt for the first couple inches, honey,” laughed Yolanda.  “After that, you would be feeling no pain, you know what I’m sayin’?”

“Yolanda, don’t be bad!” laughed Luna with delight.

“Yeah, I don’t appreciate that comment,” I told Yolanda petulantly.

“Oh, you would love watching that, don’t bullshit me,” she whispered in my ear.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I stammered nervously.  Was I really so obvious?

“You know,” she said softly, but maybe not so softly that Roger couldn’t hear.  “You want to see that big black bull penetrate your little woman with that spear of his.  Don’t lie. You can’t fool me, nigga.”

“Uh, what?” I gasped.

“If I call you nigga, it just means I’m starting to like you,” explained Yolando.  “You know, like ‘dats my nigga?”  I stared at her blankly.  “Whatever, just watch the show, white boy.”  She shook her head with a smile on her face.

Linda and DeShawn were standing awkwardly in the middle of the murmuring crowd, each looking at the other’s nakedness with longing.  Luna was rubbing oil onto my wife’s neck and shoulders and whispering something in her ear.

“Ok, now you put some oil on DeShawn’s legs,” said Luna loudly to my wife.

“You might need to get down on your knees before him,” offered Giuseppe helpfully.  “Luna, bunch up her dress beneath her so Linda doesn’t hurt her knees.”

Lunda followed his instructions and my wife eagerly knelt before the towering naked black man.  His hard phallus just inches from her face as she rubbed oil on his thighs.

Linda’s knelt there with DeShawn’s cock hovering right in front of her open mouth and she was about to lick it, I am sure, when she caught herself.  “Um, this is too distracting, I can’t do this with your, uh, thing right there in front of my face.”

“Too tasty!” giggled Luna.  “You want to take a bite!”

“No, no, I mean, of course not,” stammered my wife.  She was looking back at me guiltily.

“Just put it on her shoulder, DeShawn.  Don’t stick that big thing in her face like that,” scolded Luna.

“Uh, her shoulder?” asked DeShawn blearily.  His mind fogged with lust for my naked wife kneeling in blowjob position before him.

“Yeah, I lubed it up for you ahead of time,” said Luna with a wink.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, you can put it on her shoulder,” said Giuseppe.  “That’s not sexual,” he told me defensively as he went on snapping pictures.

“Oh, oh, ok,” said DeShawn as he lowered his big dick onto my wife’s oiled up shoulder.  

“MMmm, yeah,” said my wife, putting her hands on DeShawn’s hips as he slid his cock back and forth in the crook of her neck.

“Oh shit,” I gasped.  My dick standing at attention as I watched.

“What?” asked my wife, turning to look at me over her shoulder and laying her chin along the top of the long black shaft.  “Are you OK, honey?  This is for art.”

“Yeah, art,” grunted DeShawn.   He was sliding his dick back and forth more vigorously now.  Basically fucking the lubed up crook of my wife’s neck and the underside of her chin while she looked at me guiltily.

“Now, DeShawn,” warned Giuseppe.  “You are spoiling the mood.  Calm down a little.”

“Huh, huh, huh,” grunted DeShawn.  He ignored the photographer as he slid his dick back and forth.  The shiny black knob of his oiled up cock would poke out from crook of my wife’s neck and then disappear again.  She was pushing her chin down against it and seemed to be encouraging him by squeezing his hips.  The crowd gave grew feral and restive, with people making crude comments, some even encouraging her to suck his penis.

“You are not GETTING the allegory,” snapped Giuseppe irritably.   But he kept shooting anyway.  “That’s not comfort, that’s something else.”

“Oh fuck!” groaned DeShawn and his cock started spurting semen down my wife’s back.  The crowd gave a gasp and then broke out in applause and laughter.

“DeShawn, what did you do?” exclaimed my wife.  She turned to feel her back and he blasted another spurt of cum right in her face.  “Oh! Did you cum?  Ooh, I’m really sticky.”

“Goddamn it, DeShawn!  What’s the hell do you think you are doing?” shouted Giuseppe.  “You are ruining my shoot.  This isn’t pornography, you buffoon!”  Giuseppe grabbed DeShawn by the arm and pulled him and his exploding cock away from my wife who was examining the jism on her finger with facination.

“Oh shit, man, I’m sorry, but I TOLD you I wasn’t no model.  Naked white woman get down on a nigga, nigga gonna bust a nut, cuz. What the fuck I know ‘bout art?”

“Lay off him, he’s just keepin it real, Roma,” shouted Yolanda.

Even I thought it was ironic.  “Yeah, I mean, it’s not as though you couldn’t have seen THAT coming.  You set this whole this up,” I said.

“None of you understand my vision,” cried Giuseppe.  He seemed really upset.  “I am telling a story about platonic love and memetic hazards!”

“I don’t know what the fuck you talkin’ ‘bout,” admitted DeShawn as he put his pants back on.

“I don’t either,” said my wife, taking the opportunity to slip back into her dress as the crowd began to disperse, the show now apparently over.

“Ok, look, we just have to do this all over again next week,” sighed Giuseppe.  “Luna will get your contact information and we will cut you a check and have you sign the paperwork for this shoot.  But we have to start over and do this right next time.”  He punched DeShawn on the arm.  “And no ejaculation from you!”

“I mean, I’ll try, nigga, I’ll try,” yelped DeShawn.

“Yeah, I mean, I’ll try it again,” said my wife.  I was disgusted to see her licking some of DeShawn’s cum from her lips.  “Maybe we could try putting it between my thighs instead of the crook of my neck.”

“Wait now, I don’t like this,” I croaked.

“Yeah, how’s that gonna make it easier?” asked DeShawn in frustration.  “I get my cock up against that pussy, Imma bust my nut again fo’ sho.”

“You never know, you might be able to control yourself,” said my wife with a little smile.

“And if not, well that would be fun too!” chirped Luna.

“Stop it, Luna, you go too far,” sniffed Giuseppe.  “You are a minx.  Now get Linda’s contact information and stop being devilish.”  He turned to me and grabbed my hand, shaking it sincerely.  “I’m very sorry about all this, sir.  I assure you that we will keep trying until we get a perfectly pure artistic expression, free from any carnal depravity.  It just might take some practice.”

I didn’t like the sound of that.  My wife seemed pretty eager for the practice to go astray.  But what could I say?  My wife was working again, and that’s all that mattered.

Gustav Jorgenson’s cuckold stories:
NEW! Slut Wife, Happy Life: Naughty Wife Tales
Exhibitionist Wife Tales: 15 stories of wives cheating in public
Most Popular collection: Gustav’s Selected Shorts
Giant chunks of cuck erotica: Wives Cheating Vol 1-5 Box, Collected Longs
Hate reading?  Try an audiobook “What’s My Wife Doing With That Guy?” Audiobook

 

Wife Gets Friendly with Loading Dock Worker

By Gustav Jorgenson

Excerpted from “Wives Cheating, Husbands Watching, Vol. 5

My wife Lisa and I attended my company Christmas Party this year and got a bit carried away with the alcohol. I lost track of her at some point during the evening but I figured she was probably chatting with some of the other wives who had congregated out on the patio of the fancy hotel where the party was being held. As the party was wrapping up, I looked around for her, weaving slightly as I wandered through lavish banquet rooms. I finally found her tucked away in a corner, leaning with her back to the wall chatting with a hispanic fellow who I didn’t know very well. He worked in shipping and receiving and I thought his name might be Jose or Juan or something. He was standing quite close to my wife, gazing brazenly down into her cleavage which was amply exposed by the plunging neckline of her elegant cocktail gown. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone brightly from the alcohol and she was laughing drunkenly and patting him on the shoulder. My gut wrenched with jealousy when I saw them, and I hurried over quickly, holding my arms out to steady myself.

“Bobby, there you are, Jose and I were just about to come looking for you,” blurted my wife.

Jose yanked his eyes off of my wife’s round white orbs and smiled at me with lopsided chagrin.

“Yeah, well, let’s head home now,” I said, struggling not to slur my words.

“Yes, let’s! Jose is coming over too,” she said thickly. “He offer to share some of his marijuana with us. Isn’t that a hoot? When’s the last time we smoked pot, dear?”

I looked Jose up and down with distaste, not bothering to hide my annoyance. He was in his early twenties and was a lower class sort of person. I don’t think he even had a degree. He spent his day packing and unpacking boxes in the loading dock, and being a middle manager myself, I never worked closely with him and didn’t know him well.

“Lisa, we are too old for that stuff,” I said, taking my wife by her right arm firmly. “Thanks, anyway, Jose, but maybe another time.”

He ducked his head in embarrassment and was about to turn away, when Lisa entangled him with her left arm and clutched him to her side. “Nonsense, darling, you are being an old fuddy duddy. I simply insist on bringing Jose along, we have had the most fascinating conversation and I am not ready to say goodbye to him yet.”

“Really? Has he been regaling you with tales of his adventures with packing tape?” I asked sarcastically.

Jose drew himself up indignantly and frowned at me menacingly while my wife gasped in shock. “Bobby, don’t be such a jackass. What’s gotten into you?,” she blustered. “Jose was telling me all about his family back in Belize. It sounds like such a wonderful country. I won’t have you belittling him like this. He’s coming home with us and that’s final.”

I knew better than to oppose Lisa when her ire was up like this, so I gritted my teeth and followed along as my wife marched off unsteadily with Jose in tow. I noticed several raised eyebrows when my coworkers noticed Lisa arm in arm with Jose but I just waved sheepishly and scurried out after them. We grabbed a cab and spent an awkward ride back to our house where Lisa pointedly ignored me and peppered Jose with questions which he answered sullenly as he looked out the window as we rolled through the affluent neighborhoods on the way to our home. It was only when we pulled up in front of our place that he seemed to loosen up a little.

“Wow, what a joint!” he exclaimed in surprised as we emerged from the cab. “Swagged out!!”

“Do you like it?” bubbled Lisa. “I just love this neighborhood, it’s so quiet and all the landscaping is so mature.” She gestured at the big trees that lined the block and the large yards of our bordered with venerable hedges.

“Yeah, shit,” said Jose, genuinely impressed. “You must be pulling down some cash, Bob.”

“Uh, possibly,” I said, put off by his gauche comment. “Come along then.” I lead the way up our walk, past the rose bushes in our front garden and into the house.

“Wicked pad,” grunted Jose as he passed through our marble tiled foyer into our wood panelled living room. He plopped down onto our antique tufted leather chesterfield sofa and pulled out a joint. “Are we sparking this or what?” he asked, licking the entire roach up and down.

“Oh, yes, definitely, this is so exciting,” gushed my wife as she joined Jose on the couch. “Why I haven’t smoked pot since college. It must be twenty years now.”

“What? Naw, no way,” said Jose, looking my wife’s shapely figure up and down in her short little cocktail dress. “You look too good, you can’t be older than 30.”

“Oh, you flatter me,” said my wife, blushing and looking down. She rubbed her shapely stockinged thigh, hiking her hem up slightly.

“I’m not kidding, your body is smokin’,” he gushed enthusiastically, as he ogled my wife’s gorgeous thighs, encased in sheer black stockings.

“Ahem, yes, well,” I interrupted, feeling my ears growing hot with anger.

“Oh, I like him, Bobby,” laughed my wife. “We should have him over more often. Keep it up, young man, I simply adore flattery. My husband barely notices me anymore.”

Jose looked at me askance and paused for a second. “Uh, well, if you were my woman, I would let you know how fine you are every day.” His eyes flitted back to my wife’s cleavage and Lisa gave me a knowing smile, pushing her shoulders back so her chest jutted out slightly making Jose gulp dramatically.

“I never thought, I’d be saying this, but can we just smoke this marijuana and get on with it?” I asked irritably, trying to change the subject.

“Oh, yeah, no offense Bob,” said Jose hurriedly lighting the spliff. “I didn’t mean nothing by it. You know,” he said, but he kept glancing over at my wife’s boobs as he inhaled. He held the hit and passed the joint to Lisa who took a deep drag and jumped up to hand me the roach with her cheeks bulging out.

I took it with distaste, thinking about how Jose had licked it but I took a quick puff anyway. My mouth was immediately flooded with the strong skunky taste. I held it in for a second but soon I was coughing hacking madly. My wife jumped up to pound me on the back and Jose came over and relieved me of the joint before I dropped it on the persian carpet.

I was already pretty drunk and the potent weed hit me like a hammer to my skull. I watched in amazement as he and Lisa passed it back and forth between them a few times, my mouth hanging open stupidly.

“I haven’t been this fucked up in years,” I mumbled. “How can you keep smoking, that Lisa? Weren’t you already drunk too?”

“I’m obliterated,” admitted my wife, nodding her head in an exaggerated fashion.

“This is good weed,” said Jose, getting up and examining our stereo. “Mind if I put on some music?”

Lisa and I just sat staring at him dumbly so he laughed and the next thing I knew some horrible R&B music was pouring from our high end speakers. I usually hated the stuff, but I found myself hearing so much more in the music now that I was stoned. I almost liked it. Jose rejoined my wife on the couch and we just sat there for several minutes, saying nothing as we listened to Nicki Minaj sing about explicit sexual acts.

“I’m, uh, wow,” said Lisa, running her hands over her breasts and down to her belly.

“Yeah, what?” asked Jose with interest as he watched her slip her hands between her thighs.

“Nothing,” giggled Lisa, peeking at him behind a lock of hair that fell across her face. She ran her hands up and down her body luxuriously as he looked on appreciatively.

“Come on, tell me. You were gonna say something,” coaxed Jose, with a stoned grin on his face.

“I’m feeling so horny all of a sudden,” admitted my wife with a giggle.

I was so drunk and baked that it took me a few seconds to register what she had said. “Ahh, ok,” I said holding my hands up slowly.

“It’s cool, weed does that to people,” said Jose smoothly. “Just go with it.”

“Go with it? What do you mean?” said Lisa looking deep into Jose’s eyes.

“You know, take your dress off, get comfortable,” said Jose softly, locking gazes with my wife.

“Wait what?” I stammered, not believing what I was hearing.

“Oh my god, you are bad,” giggled Lisa, slapping his shoulder drunkenly. “My husband is sitting right there.”

“But you would do it if he weren’t there?” asked Jose with a crooked grin.

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound right,” I said, unable to feel my face.

“Hey, she is the one that said she was horny, not me,” laughed Jose.

“Aren’t you horny, too?” asked Lisa seductively, cupping her breasts in her hands as she looked at Jose.

“I would be if you took your dress off,” said Jose, licking his lips and gripping his crotch.

My wife swayed slightly in her seat for a moment. She glanced at me and then quickly away. “Unzip me,” said my wife impetuously, turning her back to Jose and lifting her long auburn hair up in the back.

“Uh,” I said, but my mind was moving slowly and a part of me was eager to see my wife’s sexy body even though it wasn’t right for her to strip in front of Jose like that.

Jose managed to get Lisa’s dress unzipped and she stood up and dropped it casually to the floor. She stood before him in her bra, panties and stockings, her lovely white belly and upper thighs exposed and her round breast practically spilling out.

“What do you think?” she asked. “Do you still think I have a nice body for an old lady?”

Jose sat dumbfounded for a few moments as he drank in the sight of my wife’s amazing body. “Matching bra and panties, that’s hot,” was all he could muster. Then he caught himself and added, “Oh but yeah, your body is tight, Lisa. Your tits and ass are booming.”

“Yes, she’s got a great body, but don’t forget, that’s my wife, you are talking to, there,” I said, feeling as though I was under water.

“Sorry Bob, but damn, those titties,” he slapped his own face.

Lisa sat down next to him on the couch and pinched his chest. “You look like you have some boobs too,” she teased.

“Shit, I’ve been lifting. I’m swole,” said Jose, lifting his white t-shirt up and to display his bulging pecs and surprisingly well defined abs.

“Whoa,” said Lisa running her hands over his chest and down over his stomach hungrily. “You are going to give poor Bobby an inferiority complex,” she gushed.

“Ah, quite,” I admitted sadly, patting my own pot belly in remorse as my wife ran her hands up and down Jose’s hairless chest.

“You should come to the gym with us some time,” he said, pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside thoughtlessly.

“Err, maybe,” I croaked, still stunned by the pot and liquor, but slightly worried about the strange situation developing between him and my half-naked wife.

“I like your boobies too,” giggled Lisa, pinching Jose’s nipples playfully. “Can I suck them?”

“Sure,” he agreed magnanimously, leaning back and spreading his arms out.

And so she did. She just bent over and started licking and sucking on Jose’s nipple right in front of me. She even turned her face and looked me in the eye while she flicked her tongue over Jose’s man boobs. I was shocked but I was too fucked up to think of a good response. Meanwhile Jose grunted in pleasure and my wife latched her mouth onto one of his nipples, her boobs pressed against his side. She ran her hand down over his washboard stomach and stopped just above his waistband of his boxers which were visible since he wore saggy jeans in the ghetto style and the belt of his pants rode halfway down his waist.

“I can’t believe this hard flat stomach of yours,” moaned my wife lustily as she bent down and started kissing his belly.

“Oh fuck,” exclaimed Jose, his face beading up with sweat.

My wife laid one one hand lightly on his crotch as she kissed and licked Jose’s stomach moving lower and lower until she was nibbling on the pubic hair that formed the top of his happy trail below his belly button.

“Honey, what are you doing?” I gasped, finally able to voice some protest.

“Why, I’m just kissing Jose’s belly,” she intoned innocently as Beyonce and Jay Z sang about drunken sex in the background. “Perfectly harmless.” She gave me a strange smoldering look and then resumed kissing his belly, lower and lower, inching his shorts down bit by bit with her hand while I watched, breathlessly and Jose squirmed and grunted. Suddenly the head of Jose’ dick poked up above the waist of his boxers, red and swollen. My wife contemplated it for a moment and opened her mouth as though to engulf it, but she managed to restrain herself and she looked over at me sweetly. “Oops, something popped out,” she giggled.

“Oh, fuck, woman, what are you playing at?” demanded Jose as Lisa, edged his shorts down a bit further revealing more of his stiff shaft as his hard cock lay against his belly pinned there by the waistband of his boxers.

“Why I’m just kissing your belly, silly. Nothing to worry about,” she said and she bent down and resumed kissing Jose’s gut, carefully avoiding his penis, but kissing around it as close as she could get without actually touching it.

“Hey, now, come on,” I objected, sweating profusely. “I mean his penis is poking out, dear.”

“I know, aren’t I bad?” she giggled licking an outline around his stiff phallus.

“Suck it, suck it,” begged Jose, forgetting himself entirely.

“Why Jose, that wouldn’t be proper,” gasped my wife as she ran her fingers up and down Jose’s belly, teasingly close to straining cock. He just yanked his shorts down further, allowing his penis to spring upright and stand at attention. “I can’t just suck another man’s penis right in front of my husband,” she scolded, gripping his shaft suddenly and tugging insistently on it while he groaned with satisfaction. “Right, darling?” she asked me with an arched eyebrows.

“You’re, just, you’re touching his thing,” I panted, gasping for breath as my heart thumped in my chest.

“I know, it’s simply scandalous isn’t it?” she giggled. She sat there looking me in the eye intently while she tugged on the young dock worker’s dong. Once she was satisfied that I had fully grasped the situation even in my drunk and stoned state, she bent her head down and sniffed at Jose’s cock hesitantly before engulfing his dong in her mouth. She slurped and sucked on it, looking me straight in the eyes to make sure I saw what she was doing. I just gulped and gazed as she sucked Jose’s prick and he gasped with pleasure. After a few minutes moments, she pulled his dick from her mouth with a loud pop and smiled back at me briefly as she unsteadily swung one leg over his lap so that she was straddling him. She lowered herself until his stiff dong was pushing up into her crotch. I could see the red, swollen head of his dick start to penetrate into her vagina through the thin fabric of her panties. “Wow, you are hard, I can feel you down there.”

“Let me put the tip in,” he begged her.

“Just the tip?” she asked innocently. “Promise?”

“Hey, what do you mean?” I blubbered, my cock straining against my trousers as my wife dry humped Jose’s hard brown phallus.

“Just the tip, dear, nothing to worry about,” she laughed as she slid her panties aside and Jose’s dick plunged up into her wet snatch. Her laugh became a gasp of pleasure as the head of his penis entered her.

He pulled out and thrust back in, over and over, true to his word, just driving the head of his prick into my wife and then withdrawing it quickly until it was shiny with her juices. She unsnapped her bra and tossed it aside carelessly and I stared at her gorgeous bare back as she dangled her boobs in Jose’s face and lowered herself down slowly, impaling herself on his shaft until he was all the way inside her.

“Hey,” I complained, my mouth dry and my blood pounding in my ears.

“Oh, sorry, dear,” she panted. “But he feels so good inside me.”

“Jesus, how can you say that?” I sputtered in shock. “You are my wife!”

“Shit, just let me do my thing, man,” he spat, gripping my wife’s soft swinging breasts in his rough hands. I watched in sick fascination as my wife bucked up and down, fucking another man right in front of me. I don’t know if it was because I was so stoned or if some latent perversion was revealing itself, but my dick was hard as a rock as I watched her wantonly fucking this uneducated laborer. Without thinking, I unzipped my fly and started stroking myself as I watched this low class ape violating my precious wife, pumping his dick in and out of her as hard as he could while she moaned and made little whimpering sounds of passion, whipping her hair back and forth drunkenly as he owned her.

After fucking her for a few minutes, Jose grabbed her by her thin waist and threw her down on her back next to him, making her squawk in surprise. I stared drunkenly as Jose slid Lisa’s panties off effortlessly and lifted one of her pale, shapely legs so he could insert his cock into her. I watched breathlessly as he poked his erect penis into my wife’s vagina while she spread her lips for him with her fingers. He rocked his hips back and forth, working his dick in and out of my woman while rubbing her soft white belly with one hand and pinching a stiff pink nipple with the other. “Oh yeah, you like that, don’t you, you filthy whore,” he muttered when she whimpered with pleasure. “Look at your wife, she loves getting my cock inside her,” he told me rudely.

“I see that,” I responded dully, not pausing in my masturbation. “I will take that under advisement.”

“Do it, do it,” urged my wife feverishly, reaching between her legs to rub her clitoris. “Yes, fuck me, I like it, I like it.”

My wife’s urgent encouragement got to me and I jumped up and pushed my hard dick right between her gaping red lips just as I was about to cum. She took this in stride and readily swallow my cum as I shot it into her mouth, then she sucked my cock clean. Jose grinned up at me as he ploughed my wife and repeatedly rubbed her stomach. His cock sliding in and out of her until she cried out in climax.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it!” he shouted as her shivers subsided, then he pulled out suddenly and spurted load after load of slippery jism all over my wife’s supine form as I kneeled by her side.

“Wonderful, wonderful,” she gushed drunkenly, smearing the cum across her stomach and down between her thighs. “Quite a volume there, honey, look how much he came on me,” she said proudly, gazing up at me with a wicked smile.

I looked down at my wife’s pale luminous form spread before me, covered in this interloper’s sputum and shook my head in confusion.

“I gotta wash up,” said Jose, extracting himself with effort from between my wife’s legs and heading off to the bathroom.

“I’m so horny, I need to be fucked some more,” she panted, rubbing her copper color pubic hair and inserting a few fingers into herself.

“Well, I’m spent already, maybe Jose can call a few of his friends over,” I joked.

“Would you be able to handle that?” she asked seriously. “Because I could. He fucked me like an animal and I liked it.”

“Honey, this isn’t like you,” I said, in shock.

“I know, I’m just stoned and drunk,” she said, sitting up unsteadily.

“Ok, I’m out of here,” said Jose, standing awkwardly by the door.

“Wait, Jose, don’t go,” cried, my wife, standing up wearing nothing but her stockings. “I want to fuck more and smoke more.”

“For real?” he asked in surprise. “Well we could go back to my place and I could introduce you to my cousins.” He eyed me suspiciously. “But I don’t think your husband would like it.”

“Bob will be fine with it, we are a modern couple,” said my wife giddily, slipping her panties back on and grabbing her bra.

“Since when?” I asked in amazement.

“Bob, look,” she turned to me seriously, breathing out alcoholic vapors, she was so drunk.

“I’m going to go smoke more pot and hang out with Jose and his cousins, OK? If I’m lucky, hopefully, I’ll get lucky. Let’s go, Jose. Are you ok to drive the beamer?”

“Not really, but I’ll try,” he admitted. “Aren’t you going to get dressed?”

“I’ve got my bra and my panties, what else do I need?” she asked sweetly, wrestling her bra back into place. “Snap this, won’t you dear?”

I absently snapped my wife’ bra for her and she staggered off with Jose in tow, in nothing but her underwear and stockings.

Jose’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Oh man, the guys are really going to go apeshit over this, when I bring a fucking half-naked, super-hot, horny, rich cougar lady into the pad. This is going to be awesome.”

“Will you at least have them use protection?” I asked helplessly, flopping back into my chair as my ability to stand upright decayed.

“Nope,” called my wife cheerfully as they headed out.

“But I will post the video online and send you the link tomorrow,” called Jose.
I sat there with the room spinning around me, unable to properly comprehend what happened, when I heard my wife and her new friend peel out in our new BMW and knock over our mailbox on their way out. The last thought I had before passing out was a fervent hope that they didn’t die in a car crash.

My wife was properly contrite when she returned home, bedraggled and cum stained the following morning. She begged my forgiveness and promised never to be unfaithful again, but I just laughed off the incident. I was surprised at how excited I was by cuckoldry, but I didn’t tell her. The next day at work, I went down to visit Jose in the loading dock and I found the entire crew crowded around a computer monitor watching footage of my wife on all fours on a filthy carpet, getting fucked doggystyle from behind by one brown guy with a backward baseball cap while she sucked off another thuggish character who smoked from a huge bong while she fellated him. It was pretty stimulating, and I could feel my cock getting hard.

The guys were all startled when they saw me and tried to turn off the video but I just chuckled and said, “I thought you were going to send me that URL, Jose.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, man,” he said scratching his head nervously.

“Are we ready for lunch?” asked my wife, striding in suddenly and stopping dead in her tracks when she saw me.

“I have plans actually,” I said, approaching her with a smile. She was wearing a trenchcoat that was inappropriate for the weather.

“Oh, I was going to go out to lunch with Jose and the boys from the loading dock, darling,” she said, clutching her coat closed at the neck. “Just a platonic lunch date with a bunch of fine fellows. Nothing untoward,” she said, blushing as I looked her up and down.

“Well, that’s fine, honey,” I said as the guys gathered round her. “But it’s far too hot, why don’t you leave that coat with me?”

“Oh, no, I really couldn’t,” she gasped. “I, uh, am feeling a chill.”

But I just laughed and untied her belt and tugged her coat open to reveal that she was completely naked under the coat, exactly as I had expected. The crowd of rough men around me growled with arousal at the sight of my wife’s exposed flesh

“Ok, you caught me,” she sighed, dropping her head.

“No, no, please, carry on,” I said, taking her coat and leaving her standing nude on the loading dock, surrounded by a bunch of horny men. She was quite a vixen and stood with her hands on her hips facing them all down in her naked glory. Her gaze caught mine and I nodded encouragement and before long I had a front row seat at quite an exciting sex show starring my classy wife and numerous tattooed ruffians.

Gustav Jorgenson’s cuckold stories:
NEW! Slut Wife, Happy Life: Naughty Wife Tales
Exhibitionist Wife Tales: 15 stories of wives cheating in public
Most Popular collection: Gustav’s Selected Shorts
Giant chunks of cuck erotica: Wives Cheating Vol 1-5 Box, Collected Longs
Hate reading?  Try an audiobook “What’s My Wife Doing With That Guy?” Audiobook