Monthly Archives: October 2017

Wife Does Bikini Car Wash for Urban Youth Fundraiser

By Gustav Jorgenson

Excerpted from “Exhibitionist Wife Tales

My wife Molly had worked with troubled youths as a counsellor for years before taking a job with a non-profit providing career counselling for disadvantaged youth in Oakland, CA.  She did feel a little awkward being the only white woman working there, but she was determined to fit in.  So one night she invited some of her coworkers over to our home for dinner and to plan some upcoming fundraisers.  They asked me to sit in since I have a background in finance, and I might be able to offer some guidance around fiscal matters.

I was sitting around our dining room table with Molly, Trevon, the director, Shanice, the associate director, and Jada, another counsellor.

“Of course our most popular fundraiser is always the bikini car wash,” said Trevon.  He gave Molly a devilish grin and my poor wife blushed immediately.

“Oh gosh,” stammered my wife.  “Yes, I heard about that.”

“Girl, you gonna be banging with those boobs and that booty of yours,” chuckled Jada.  “We gonna teach you how to twerk it!”

“Uh, I’m not really getting the premise of this,” I said.   I wasn’t sure I understood what was being suggested, but it didn’t sound too savory.  I loosened my tie uncomfortably.  I was feeling a slight tightness around my throat.

“Oh, right, Connor” said Trevon, addressing me.  “Let me explain.  See, each year the female staff dress up in bikinis and wash cars in the parking lot of the center for cash.  The youth who attend the center join in and stand by the nearby intersections waving signs to attract customers.  Definitely one of the highlights of the year in terms of fun and we always raise a good amount of funds for the center as well.”  He made a point of eyeing Molly’s cleavage and she pulled her blouse closed in response, blushing even more.

“Girlfriend gonna bring ALL the boys to the yard with HER milkshake,” teased Shanice.

“Most definitely,” growled Trevon.  I didn’t like the way his gaze was fixed on my wife’s breasts.

“But, that sounds a little, um, inappropriate, isn’t it? I don’t mean to suggest that it’s necessarily sexual in nature,” I said nervously.

Molly gave me a strange grimace of discomfort that I couldn’t fully understand while her coworkers broke out laughing.

“Oh, you white people,” giggled Jada.  “Of COURSE it’s sexual, how you think we raise so much money?  We be puttin our tits on the windshield, butts against the window.  That’s how to get the BIG tips, my brutha.”

“You mean the customers sit inside the vehicles and pay extra for, for,” I was stuttering, unable to believe my ears.

I could feel the blood draining from my face and Molly reached across the table to grab my hand.  “Connor is a bit old fashioned, so I think it will take him some time to get used to this idea.”  She laughed self-consciously.  “Honestly, I am pretty nervous about it myself.”

“How come, girl?  You got nothing to be ashamed of,” chimed in Shanice, eyeing my wife’s figure judiciously.  “The mens gonna get in LINE to have you wash their rides.  You gonna make, BANK!”

“And the boys from the center gonna be HOWLING to see Miss Molly working it,” agreed Jada with a smile.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” admitted Molly.  “Most of my clients are young men in their late teens.  They are uh, sexually mature, and it seems that it will be, um, challenging to maintain a professional, err, ethical…” my wife was struggling to find the right word.

“Ah, Molly, this goes back to this question of cultural competence we were discussing the other day,” said Trevon loftily.

“Yeah, during the car wash we have a little time out on the professionalism and stuff,” sniffed Jada.  “I let them boys get up on there and get to grinding on my booty, it’s all good, it’s all good.  Sometime they get a little naughty, but that’s one way to build bonds with your fam, you feel me?”

“Grinding on your booty?” I asked.  I didn’t like the sound of that.

Shanice pointed at me and covered her mouth, tittering mockingly at me.  “Check out Connor, he don’t know WHAT the fuck you talkin’ bout.”

“Check this out,” said Jada, pulling out her phone with excitement.  “This a video from last year.  You wanna see me work it?”

She slid over next to me at the table and showed me the video on her phone.  My eyebrows shot up when I saw the tiny images.  Jada was standing in a parking lot surrounded by black teenagers.  She was soaking wet and had her back to the camera, bent over with her hands on her knees.  She had on a thong that completely revealed her buttocks and was doing some sort of gyration and that was making her butt cheeks bounce up and down madly.  In the background a lowrider was bouncing along on it hydrolics, mimicking her dance.  The teenage boys were clapping and cheering and one bold fellow leapt forward and started grinding his crotch up against Jada’s exposed rear as though he were copulating with her from behind.

“Good GOD!  What is that young man doing?” I gasped.  Sweat was beading on my brow as I watched this primal display.

“He trying to pop it,” said Jada with a shrug.  Then she noticed my sweaty forehead and gave me a sly grin. “You like how he doing that?  You want me to teach you how to do that dance?”

“Oh, girl, you bad, you bad,” laughed Shanice.

It was my turn to blush and Molly laughed along with Trevon at my discomfiture.

Jada jumped up out of her chair and started doing the twerk dance with her big rump pointed at my face.  I stared open mouthed for a moment while everyone laughed at the expression on my face.  I could feel my member swelling at the animalistic display by Molly’s shameless coworker.

“Don’t just sit there, get up and get behind me, fool,” scolded Jada, she pulled me to my feet and Shanice gasped when she saw the bulge in my trousers.

“Easy, Jada, Molly’s man got a stiffy for you,” commented Shanice, pointing at my visible priapism.

“That’s what I’m talking bout,” said Jada eagerly.  She made a face at my wife as she turned her back to me and thrust her round buttocks forcefully against my erection, grinding herself insistently against my manhood.  I had to grip her hips to keep from falling over.

“Connor!  I didn’t know you had it in you,” gasped my wife.  She was laughing along but seemed a bit disturbed by the whole situation.

“I don’t, I mean, I’m not,” I babbled, backing away from the playful Jada and covering my crotch with my hands as I dropped hurriedly back into my seat.

“Why I think you enjoyed that,” said my wife in amazement.

‘Sure he did,” laughed Shanice.  “You better watch Jada, she going after yo man.”

“I’m just playing girlfriend,” said Jada primly as she took her seat again.  “But from what I felt back there, I’m guessin Connor keepin’ YOU happy.”  She and Shanice broke out in cackles of laughter while I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat.  Molly tried to force a smile but I could tell she was a little annoyed.

“Anyway, Jada’ll teach you how to twerk,” put in Trevon.  “Call it cultural literacy training.”

“You got a little bikini, girl?” asked Shanice of my wife skeptically.  “I mean a LITTLE one with a thong?”

“Not really,” admitted my wife.

“Well we can take you shopping, I’ll help you pick one out,” said Trevon.

The black women broke out laughing at the expression on Molly’s face when she said, “Um…”

“Don’t be so uptight, girl,” teased Jada.  “He’s gonna see you in it anyway.  EVERYONE is gonna see you in it.”

“Huh, yeah, I guess so,” agreed my wife miserably.  She was normally a modest woman and usually wore very conservative one-piece bathing suits.

“You are going to take my wife bikini shopping?” I asked incredulously.

“Yes, do you have a problem with that?” replied Trevon.  He seemed defensive.  “If I were WHITE would you have a problem with that?”

“Yes, probably,” I affirmed without much hesitation.  “I mean, I’m not really comfortable with this entire idea.  I don’t want my wife putting her breasts on some stranger’s windshield for tips.  It’s not proper.”

Jada made a sour face and put her hand up.  “Check your puritanical privilege please,” she said, clearly pleased by her spontaneous alliteration.

“I don’t want to seem puritanical,” admitted my wife.

And so it was agreed that my charming little wife would participate in this urban youth car wash fundraiser over my stifled grumbling.

Once her coworkers left, I confronted my wife about it.

“Surely you can’t be serious about this, Molly?” I demanded.  I was feeling agitated and was pacing back and forth and waving my arms.

“I’m certainly not thrilled about it, especially getting half naked around my clients.  They are very, uh, excitable young fellows,” she whined unhappily.  “But you heard Trevon.  He considers this a show of cultural competence.  And sensitivity to the cultural norms of the community we are serving is extremely important in social work.  It’s fundamental.”

“Cultural competence!” I spat with disdain.  “Doing a booty dance for a bunch of drooling teenagers and letting them dry hump you from behind is cultural competence? Balderdash!”

“Oh dear,” said my wife, putting her hand on her cheek as she envisioned the scene.  “Well, I know you won’t like it, but it’s just something I have to do,” she said.  “It’s hard enough for me to fit in, being the only white person at the center.  If I make a fuss over this, it will only reinforce my differentness.”  She patted me on the shoulder.  “You know what they say, darling.  When in Rome and all that.”

“Bah,” I complained and headed off to bed.  But as I lay in bed that night, I couldn’t banish the image of my pretty wife in a tiny bikini exposing herself to a bunch of ghetto hooligans from my mind.  And the more I imagined the various scenarios, the harder my penis became until I had to sneak to the bathroom to masturbate as I pictured my wife covered in soap suds while a virile black teenager mounted her from behind and his compatriots cheered him on.  Then I pictured Jada’s tight bum pressed up  against my penis again and I climaxed strongly spurting cum all over the bathroom wall.

I was ashamed of myself but also strongly intrigued by the idea of Molly becoming a shameless exhbitionist.  She certainly did have a wonderful body.  It bothered me too that I was excited by the idea of other men seeing my wife half-naked or worse yet actually grabbing her and trying to hump her.  And they call it a dance, the grind, but it’s really just a shameless pantomime of coitus.  And she has to do it in the name of cultural competence.  I was growing hard again as these thoughts raced through my mind.

The day of the car wash, Molly packed up her tiny string bikini and I drove her over to the youth center.  My wife was nervous and pensive on the ride over, she didn’t say much.  As we pulled into the parking lot where they were holding the car wash, I was taken aback by the scene before me.  There were dozens of black and brown teenagers milling about.  I was frightened by the sea of dark faces before me, I had to admit.  I had never seen so many people of color in one place before and I started to appreciate how they must feel surrounded by white faces all the time.

There were young men twirling big signs shaped like arrows to draw in customers on the corner.  They stood shirtless in the hot sun, showing off their physiques.  As we pulled into the lot, we got a lot of hard, aggressive stares until people recognized Molly and then everyone’s face lit up, all the young men and young women seemed to recognize my wife.  The lot was already half full of big old cadillacs and other ghetto vehicles, hoopties or lowriders or whatever they call them these days.  Young black women in scandalously tiny bikinis were bending dramatically over the cars, spreading suds onto themselves as much as the car while gangs of young thugs stood around hooting, hands on their crotches as they watched.  The girls were really hamming it up, they seemed to love the attention.

“Well, looks like everyone is already having fun,” said my wife.  A DJ booth was set up nearby pumping insanely loud beats from two towers of speakers that had been erected right in the parking lot.

I found a spot at the back of the lot to park the car and we got out.  The smell of marijuana smoke hung strongly in the air.

“That’s pot smoke, isn’t it?” I asked Molly.

“The center has a relaxed attitude toward marijuana during events like the car wash.”  My wife seemed a bit nervous, holding her handbag with her tiny bikini inside.

Jada, Trevon, and Shanice emerged from the crowd and approached us, waving.  I couldn’t help but stare at the shockingly small bikinis the two black women were wearing.  Both women were actually quite pudgy and each had a little pot belly, but their boobs were so big and so boisterous that I hardly noticed.  It was amazing that their tiny tops were able to constrain those bosoms at all.

“My eyes are up HERE, Connor,” teased Jada.  I blushed and my wife laughed weakly, but she seemed in no mood to joke around.

“Molly girl, you look sick as hell,” said Shanice.  “You feelin’ ok?”

“Well, you two are just very comfortable with your bodies, but I, uh, feel really self-conscious.”

“Oh, I know what goin’ to calm your nerves,” said Jada with a wink.  

Shanice and Trevon looked at each other and said “The chronic!” in unison.

“Oh, I really haven’t smoked since college,” said my wife.  She looked at me with trepidation.

“Surely you aren’t suggesting smoking marijuana!” I gasped.  “That’s illegal.”

“Now, now, Connor, technically, this is a grey area give the local and state statutes,” said Trevon.  He took my wife by the shoulder and lead her toward a large tent.  “Come along Molly, you come have a little puff to relax and then let’s get you changed.  Did you bring your bikini?”  My wife held up her bag with a weak smile.  “That’s fine, you’ll feel better once you’ve got a little buzz on.”

I tagged along as the four of them headed toward the tent, I was distracted by the sight of Jada and Shanice’s exposed buttocks as they strutted along in their thong bikinis and a bunch of young black men noticed as well and they were howling out, shouting crude compliments and offers of intercourse.  All these rowdy black people were making me uncomfortable.  I was literally the only white man in the entire crowd of hundreds.

I tried to join the group as they entered the tent, but Jada barred my way.  “Oh no, you gotta wait out here, white boy.  You gonna wreck the vibe up in here.  Molly gots to get changed.”

“But, but, Trevon is in there,” I said.  “My wife can’t get changed in front of him.”

“Why not?” Jada asked me with a laugh.  “Is her booty sacred?  Just relax, you makin’ her more nervous than she needs to be.”  Jada closed the flap and zipped it up and I was left standing there in the parking lot, seething with frustration.

All the black and brown faces that passed gave me malicious stares.  I guess I couldn’t blame them.  They didn’t have much reason to love white men I suppose.  I was starting to fear for my personal safety when I smelled the pungent scent of pot smoke coming out of the tent.

“There you go, baby,” said Trevon in a smooth voice.  “Now take that shirt off and put this bikini on.”

“Uh, maybe could you look the other way?” asked my wife. I could tell from her voice that she was already in a daze from the drug.

“No need to be bashful, girl,” Jada told her.  “Let him see what you got.  He gonna see it all later anyway once you start putting your boobs on the glass.”

“I wasn’t really sure if I was going to do that part,” said my wife.

There was a minor uproar in the tent as everyone started shouting at once.  It seemed that my wife’s coworkers were all browbeating her to get naked and stop stalling.

“Ok, Ok, jeez,” complained my wife.

“OH YEAH,” shouted Trevon.  “Them’s GOOD titties.”

I could feel the blood draining from my face as I realized that my wife’s big black boss was ogling her bare chest in this changing tent.  What nerve!

“Stop IT, Trevon, you are making me blush,” giggled my wife.  She sounded much looser now.  The cannabis was having its desired effect.

“Lemme see that pussy,” urged Trevon.

“Trevon, please, that’s too fresh,” scolded Molly.

“Get out the way, you two,” cried Trevon in annoyance.

“Naw, naw, nigga, you might see that pussy later, but let her have a bit of privacy now,” insisted Shanice.

“Ok, there, she’s changed.  You look good girl, how you feelin’?”  Jada asked.

“I feel really stoned,” laughed Molly.

The tent unzipped and a huge cloud of pot smoke hit me, making me cough.  My wife emerged first, blinking with red bloodshot eyes in the bright California sun.  She was practically naked in her tiny bikini and I nearly choked at the sight of it.  A hoot of excitement when up from the crowd gathered round and my wife was whisked away by a gang of rowdy black teenagers.  She was laughing along as they hustled her toward the car wash area, her pale white skin a stark contrast to their black skin.  I was embarrassed at the way her buttocks were so completely exposed and how her nice breasts were practically spilling out of her tiny top.  But it was certainly a sexually arousing sight and I could feel my pecker growing stiff.

One especially lusty young man took my wife in his arms and tried to kiss her.  He had his own shirt off and his muscular torso shone in the hot sun.  But Jada rescued my wife and pushed the excited youth back with a smile.  

The music changed to just a simple beat and the DJ shouted a greeting to my wife over the loudspeaker.  “Miss Molly in da house.  Give it up, people, our newest counsellor is here to represent at the car wash.  You know her as mild mannered Miss Molly in the classroom, but now we get to see her freaky side.”

Everyone cheered, the young black men were nearly hysterical as they jumped up and down pumping their fists and my wife stood flanked by Jada and Shanice, cringing under all the attention.  She waved awkwardly at the crowd.

“And you know what?  Word on the street was that Miss Molly got some booty on her.  Wazzup Miss Molly, what you got going on?” shouted the DJ.

My wife seemed confused for a moment until Jada took her by the shoulders and turned her around so that the crowd could see her bare white ass.  The hooting and jeering grew to a feverish pitch.

“That looking GOOD, but typical of a white girl, she don’t know how to SHAKE it.”  The DJ teased my wife and everyone laughed as she tried to awkwardly shimmy her gorgeous bare ass from side to side.  “Oh well, we ain’t mad at her, she’s not even DRUNK yet!” Personally, I thought my wife’s bum looked simply marvelous even if she couldn’t twerk like the rest of them.  But then Jada and Shanice bent over to expose their bare black asses.  They were trying to teach my wife how to twerk and their butts started bouncing up and down.  Their spines started undulating in a serpentine motion and I could feel my erection growing even harder from their animalistic display.

Of course the crowd exploded with shouts and a bold young black man came running up and got behind Shanice and started grinding on her.  His erection quickly formed a huge bulge in his shorts and Shanice was shamelessly rubbing her buttocks against the young man’s stiff rod while the crowd cheered and pumped their fists in the air.  She pursed her lips and turned her head from side to side, clearly enjoying the feeling of his manhood pressing against her crotch from behind.

My wife and Jada stopped twerking to watch.  Jada was clapping her hands but my wife just stared open mouthed at the brazen display.  Her eyes were glassy and she seemed stoned.  Another shirtless dark skinned young man came over and put his arm around my scantily clad wife and handed her a big bottle of malt liquor which she took and drank mechanically out of as they watched Shanice getting aggressively prodded by the horny disadvantaged youth.  Molly drank a surprising amount of the liquor and her acquaintance laughed when she handed it back to him empty and motioned for his friends to bring her another.  My poor inebriated wife shakily accepted the next bottle and started chugging away on that one as well.  I was a bit nervous about that, but it would have been impossible to intercede at that point.

Shanice broke away from the young man dry humping her and fanned her face while her grinding partner waved his grotesque erection around for the crowd to see.  Molly was staring at it in drunken fascination and the young man quickly got behind her and started prodding her with it.  The crowd loved this and cheered.  My nerdy wife started twerking again, but this time her awkward movements gave way to a smooth rhythm as she ground herself onto this young hooligan’s boner.  I was quite shocked and aroused at the sight, and I watched with amazement as my wife’s cheeks flushed redder and redder as the young man thoroughly explored her crevice with his dong.

Jada and Shanice were watching my expression with knowing smiles when a bright orange Cadillac pulled in slowly behind my wife and her friends.  To me, it looked quite silly, it’s wheels or rims were much too large for the car and gave it an unbalanced appearance with a very high center of gravity.  Also the paint was a glittery and garish hue.  When a tall black man emerged from the car, a fresh cheer when up from the crowd to greet him.  He was wearing what I can only describe as a “pimp suit” as he waved graciously to acknowledge the crowd.  It was a shiny red material, cut like a zoot suit, with an outlandish hat with a huge yellow feather.  He really looked ridiculous if you asked me, but I suppose I lacked the cultural sensitivity to appreciate such things.

“The BIG DAWG has arrived people,” shouted the DJ over the loudspeakers.   “The boss playa, shot caller, mack daddy of them ALL, SMOOVE WILLIE!”

The garishly dressed pimp tipped his hat to the DJ with remarkable poise.  Jada and Shanice pulled my wife away from her young interlocutor and presented her to Smoove Willie.  The young man took hold of his straining erection and slunk back into the crowd, outmatched by the glamorous pimp.

“Oh my yes, this a FINE looking little car washer, isn’t she,” said the tall man in a surprisingly effeminate voice.  He looked my wife up and down with a critical eye.  “You can wash my car baby.”

Molly stared up at the big man with doe eyes and I grew annoyed.

“He looks preposterous in that outfit,” I complained to Trevon who was standing at my side drinking some sort of purple concoction from a red plastic cup.

“You just don’t understand our culture,” said Trevon dismissively.  “Also, keep your voice down.  Smoove Willie will smack the shit out of you if he hears you talkin’ smack on his threads.”

Jada grabbed a hose and handed it reverently to the pimp.  He immediately turned the hose on my wife, making her squeal in surprise.

“Got to get you nice and wet,” he said.

“That other boy already got me wet,” giggled my wife drunkenly.

Everyone hooted and laughed at that, but I just smiled sickly as Trevon smirked at me.

“Well get to washing,” Smoove Willy instructed my wife.

She picked up a sponge from a soapy bucket of water and bend obediently over his preposterous car, pointing her bare buttocks right at him.  The crowd catcalled her as they enjoyed the view of her ass for a while and then Willie directed a spray right at my wife’s vagina, barely covered by her skimpy thong.  She shrieked again and turned to face him.  The big man adjusted his crotch brazenly.

“Ah, yeah, I think it’s time for you to put those titties on the glass, baby,” he told my wife.

“On the glass, on the glass,” chanted the crowd, in a frenzy now.

Jada came up behind my wife and untied her bikini top without further adieu.  Poor Molly gasped in surprise and held her top over her boobs in embarrassment as Smoove Willie climbed back into his car for the show.   Jada pulled my wife’s top away, and motioned for her to swab Willie’s windshield with her bar bosoms while Willie watched from within.  Molly hesitated at first but then she gave me a strange disoriented grin and proceeded to do as instructed.

“Mmm, yeah,” called the pimp as my wife clumsily rubbed her bare boobs on his soaped up front windshield.  Boys and girls of color were shouting with excitement and crowding closer around Willie’s car to get a better look at my topless wife.  I was nearly choking with shame, but my cock was stiff in my trousers.  Luckily, no one was looking at me.

“Come over here and help me with something in here,” called Willie.  He had the driver’s side window rolled down and motioned to my wife to come closer.

“He got his fly open!” giggled a teenaged girl in front who could see into his car.

“Now hold on, that’s going too far,” I cried, but Trevon just put his hand on my shoulder.

“Now now, this is all just part of the fun,” he cautioned me.

I watched in shock as my wife stuck her head in the window and gasped.  “It’s so big!” she cried.  Everyone had a good laugh at that.

The next thing I knew she was bent over, with her entire upper body inside Willie’s car, here head bobbing up and down in his lap.

“She sucking it, she sucking it!” cried the girl in front.

“I’m sure she’s not, it’s a just a game,” Trevon assured me with a shake of his head.

“But uh, she is topless there,” I stammered.

“Well that can’t be helped,” he told me with a shrug.

“Ok, come on, you get in the backseat,” grunted Willie after a moment.  His voice was growing deeper and more guttural, stripped of it’s effeminate lisp.

My wife pulled her head out of the car and blinked at the crowd, blinded by the bright sun while her luscious tits bounced for all to see.

“Quite nice breasts,” commented Trevon, taking a sip of his purple drink while young black men took pictures of my wife’s bare chest with their phones.  Shanice opened the back door of the Caddy while Jada helped my wife climb in.  Willie came out of the driver’s side with his bare cock in his hands and I had to admit, it was an impressive member.  The crowd was in a frenzy as he climbed into the backseat on top of my wife, her pale white legs splayed to either side.

“I think my wife is a little too drunk for this,” I gasped, pushing forward through the crowd.  But Jada stopped me and held me back from interfering.

“Naw, naw, just let her have some fun with Willie,” she told me.  “Best not to watch, you might get an inferiority complex.”

But I did watch, and so did the teeming crowd of disadvantaged youth.  We saw the back of Smoove Willie’s garish suit as he pumped up and down and my wife groaned and begged him to fuck her deeper.  She was really quite shameless.

“See, she likes it,” Jada told me smugly.

“Oh god,” I said, tried to hide my erection.  I couldn’t believe this was happening to me, but there would be plenty of video footage on vine later to review judging by the number of kids recording the event.

Soon Smoove Willie had emptied his load inside my woman and he got out and thrust his arms into the air triumphantly to cheers of adoration from the crowd.  The young fellow who had been grinding on my wife earlier quickly took his spot and soon the entire car was rocking back and forth on it’s suspension as the younger man humped her enthusiastically.  I head Molly’s signature whimper as she climaxed and my gut twisted with jealousy while my face burned with shame.

I suppose a few other fellows had a crack at my wife, it all sort of passed in a daze.  At one point she was paraded totally nude and covered in cum through the barbarous crowd like some sort of pagan offering to the fertility goddess.  Shanice hosed her down and helped her put her bikini back on and somehow she and I were back in our car together and driving slowly out of the lot past the hooting heathens who pounded the hood in merriment as we went by.

Molly was barely conscious and I was numb with shock.  

“Well, so much for cultural sensitivity training,” she told me with a smile before falling asleep in her seat.

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Your Wife Lets Your Rival Squeeze Her Tits

By Gustav Jorgenson

Excerpted from “Wives Cheating, Husbands Watching, Vol.2


You and some friends are drinking one at your house one night. You are all feeling pretty loose when you wife comes in with another tray full of beers for you.

“Here you go boys,” she says cheerily as she sets down the tray. “Don’t bother to invite me to join you anything.”

Your buddies all laugh, and you join in weakly, but you don’t like the way they are looking down the front of her dress as she bends down to put the tray on the coffee table.

“Come over here and sit with us,” says Bob, a guy you know from work. He’s more of rival than a friend. You are always trying to outdo each other, but he’s friends with your other pals, so you invite him over sometimes. It annoys you how he looks your wife’s body over as he moves over to make room on the couch for her.

“Why thank you Bob, at least there is one gentleman among you,” says your wife teasingly.

Your friends react by teasing you in turn. “Whoa,” “Oh, boy, you heard, that, Jim?”

You just roll your eyes and lean over to grab a beer for yourself.

“Thank you for bringing us more beer, darling,” you say sarcastically, tipping your beer at your wife.

“You are welcome, dear,” she says primly as she helps herself to one.

You all resume chatting for a while but Bob keeps looking over at your wife’s boobs. They do seem rather jiggly this evening and you are enjoying the view but wish Bob would stop looking at them.

“Jennifer, can I ask you a personal question?” he asks your wife, shooting you a devilish glance.

“Sure, Bob, I don’t see why not,” she says casually, recrossing her legs and tossing her foot playfully.

“Are you wearing a bra right now?” he asks, suppressing a smile.

You wife blushes furiously, and quickly crosses her arms over her chest self-consciously as your buddies break out in nervous laughter. A couple of your friends look over at you apprehensively. It’s no secret that you and Bob are always competing with one another.

You keep your cool and just smirk at Bob, “Ha ha,” you say in a deadpan voice.

Your wife looks over at you helplessly, her cheeks flushed bright red. “Well, actually, no, I’m not, Bob. I didn’t think anyone would notice.”

Bob furrows his brow earnestly and gives you wife a look of consternation. “Oh, I’m sorry, Jennifer. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

Your wife relaxes slightly and gives a half-hearted chuckle. “Oh, it’s alright Bob, I guess you boys have had a few drinks and it loosened your tongue a bit,” She lowers her arms hesitantly and Bob watches with interest as her nipples grow hard and poke through the fabric of her dress.

“You’re right, alcohol lowers your inhibitions,” he says, gazing brazenly at your wife’s tits, not bothering to look her in the eye.

She notices his attention and looks over at you with an uncomfortable grimace, but she keeps her arms by her sides and doesn’t bother covering her boobs again.

You scratch your head in annoyance, but aren’t sure how to react.

“So yeah,” says your wife, “What were we talking about again?”

“Your boobs!” laughs your buddy Pete to more laughter. You shoot him a dirty look but he just shrugs an apology and you can see that he is just a little drunk and didn’t mean anything by it.

“Right,” says Bob apologetically, still not taking his eyes off your wife’s rack, “I am sorry I brought them up, but see when I saw that you weren’t wearing a bra, I was wondering if you, uh, wanted us to notice them,” He turns to you and wags his eyebrows at you like Groucho Marx and you have to restrain the urge to jump up and pop him one.

“Oh lord,” gasps your wife with amazement. Then she slaps Bob’s shoulder and breaks out laughing. “Don’t be silly. I am allowed to be comfortable in my own home, aren’t I?”

“And then you bent over and we all got a nice view of your cleavage…” continues Bob shooting you another cocky glance.

“Purely unintentional, I’m sure,” asserts your wife, trying to laugh it off and giving you a significant look.

“Oh, no, don’t apologize, we all enjoyed it, didn’t we boys?” says Bob looking around for support. Your friends just laugh awkwardly and avoid his eyes. Everyone except Pete that is, who is drunk enough to chime in.

“Honestly, Jennifer, I did enjoy catching a glimpse of those gorgeous orbs of yours,” he says with a slight slur and a crooked smile.

“Pete, you’re drunk,” says your wife kindly. “But that’s, uh, nice of you to say, I guess.”

“Let’s change the subject, now, shall we?” you demand coldly, glaring at Bob with hatred.

“Oh yes, please,” says your wife, relieved that you are taking control of the conversation.

“Does it bother you that we like looking at your wife’s breasts?” asks Bob nonchalantly.

You are surprised that he is pressing forward like this and are at a loss for words for a second. “Uh, wouldn’t you be?” you ask.

“Honestly? No, it wouldn’t bother me at all. My wife would just laugh it off, I’m sure,” he says smugly.

“Well I just laughed it off too,” pipes up your wife, squaring her shoulders indignantly. She is subtly thrusting her chest forward as though daring Bob and Pete to look.

“Well that fact that you didn’t wear a bra and bent over to show us your boobs seems to be making your husband nervous,” says Bob, turning to your wife with a smile.

“Now wait a minute,” she laughs, blushing anew. “I wasn’t trying to show anyone anything.”

“I don’t know what your are insinuating, but I have perfect faith in my wife, Bob,” you chime in defensively.

“Jim and I have a very solid relationship,” agrees you wife with a emphatic nod.

“So he shouldn’t mind if you show us your breasts?” he asks archly. “I mean a little thing like that shouldn’t affect your relationship at all.”

“No of course it wouldn’t, but I didn’t intend to show you anything…” insists your wife, looking at him strangely.

“I’d like to see them again,” offers Pete, clearly drunk at this point.

One of you other pals shushes him up and looks apologetically over at you and your wife.

“But it would be no big deal if you were to show us. You could just flash them for us maybe. It’s not like you and Jim would get divorced over it,” presses Bob.

“Wait, are you asking me to flash my boobs for you?” asks your wife with surprise. “Pete’s drunk, but what’s your excuse?”

“I like boobs,” Bob admits with a smile. “I like your boobs,” he adds lecherously gazing at them obviously. You wife giggles in spite of herself and glances at you guiltily.

“Alright Bob, just can it,” you say angrily. You notice a couple of your other friends shifting nervously.

“Maybe we should be going,” says your pal Sam. “I think we’ve all had a few too many. Better call a cab.”

“That’s a good idea, let’s call it night,” you agree with relief.

“You have an amazing body, I’m sorry if it makes you nervous for me to tell you,” says Pete drunkenly taking your wife’s hand.

Jennifer just laughs and let’s Pete kiss her hand. “Pete, you are normally a perfectly polite and respectful guest. I promise not to tease you about this once you have sobered up,” she says with a twinkle in her eye.

“Perfect, now why not pull them out real quick so we can get a better look,” says Pete gesturing clumsily at her chest.

Sam leaps to his feet and guides Pete back to his seat shaking his head at you in amazement.

“You are going to be really embarrassed in the morning, Pete,” you say with resignation. “I promise not to tell your wife about it, though.”

“Jeez, you guys are making me self-conscious,” says your wife touching her bosom gently. “I can’t just go flashing my chest for other men while my husband is sitting right there…”

“Well I hope you wouldn’t do it even if I was in the other room,” you laugh which makes her lower her eyes and blush an even deeper red.

“Well, let her do what she wants,” says Bob. “She didn’t come out here bra-less for nothing,” he says looking her over lewdly.

“I don’t know what you are suggesting,” says your wife primly.

“You want to show us, you knew we could see down your dress when you bent over like that. Don’t be coy, we are all adults here. Go ahead and show us if you want to. We certainly don’t mind seeing some beautiful breasts,” says Bob matter-of-factly.

“Bob, you are such a prick, do you know that?” you say.

“Can’t you see that this is making my husband angry?” says your wife uncertainly.

“Wait, it’s making me angry? Aren’t you offended by all this?” you ask her, startled at her attitude.

“Well, not really. Boys will be boys and all that,” says your wife with a wry grin. “I just don’t want you to get upset,” she says.

“You mean that you would show them your tits if it didn’t bother me?” you ask incredulously.

“Well of course not, I see that it would bother you,” she says quickly, biting her lip nervously.

Bob just watches your interaction with interest as Sam hurriedly fishes out his phone and starts calling a cab.

“You aren’t answering the question. You seem to be saying that you would gladly flash your boobs for these guys if I agreed to it,” you demand.

“She did bend over and offer a nice view already…” mutters Bob.

Your wife slaps his shoulder in exasperation. “Shush now, you are making it worse.”

“Please answer the question, dear,” you say patiently.

“Ugh. Why are you doing this?” she asks unhappily. “Maybe I would give them a thrill if I thought you wouldn’t mind. Why not? I don’t get much attention from men these days.”

“Oh, I can’t believe that,” says Bob soothingly. “I’m sure men still check you out.”

“Nope,” says your wife, sniffing slightly. “I honestly feel invisible around men most of the time.”

“Can we not get into this personal stuff in front of the guests?” you ask uncomfortably.

“You wanted to know,” she snaps at you, upset now. “Would I flash my boobs? Sure I would.”

“Well do it then!” laughs Pete unaware of the tension between your wife and you.

She grabs the top of her dress and stares at you daring you to object.

You just shrug your shoulders, unable to believe that she would go through with it.

But she does. She pulls the top of her dress right down and her soft white breasts come spilling out. She turns and points her erect pink nipples right at Bob.

“Are you happy now?” she asks him.

“Sure,” he says. “May I?” he asks reaching out his hands.

“Do what you want,” she says softly.

You look on in stunned silence as Bob grasps your wife’s tender boobs in his rough hands and pinches her nipples gently.

“You wife is an outstanding hostess,” Bob says to you as he fondles your wife’s knockers and smiling crudely.

You jump up and rush over to intercede, but he quickly withdraws his hands. Your wife flips her top back up and gives you a frightened stare.

“Get the fuck out!” you shout at Bob, pointing to the door.

He stands abruptly and holds his hands up defensively. “Easy, bud, easy. Just a little drunken tomfoolery. We didn’t mean anything by it.”

Your guests file quickly out of the room muttering awkward goodbyes and your friend Sam puts his hand on your shoulder.

“This won’t seem so bad in the light of day tomorrow,” he says sympathetically.

You nod at him tight-lipped and say nothing.

Once everyone is gone, you turn on your wife angrily.

“What the hell was that all about?” you shriek. “I can’t believe you humiliated me in front of my friends! You know Bob is my rival at work!”

“I know dear,” she says looking at you beseechingly. “Please forgive me. I don’t know what got into me.”

She seems genuinely contrite and upset, so you just let it go and head off to bed, muttering angrily to yourself.

Your wife joins you a few minutes later and you lay in bed together not talking for a while.

She snuggles close to you, but you just lay there coldly, not responding. She reaches over and starts fondling your penis and you grunt reluctantly, but you don’t stop her.

“You know, it was pretty exciting for me to show my boobs tonight,” she purrs in your ear as she fondles your cock.

“That’s nice,” you say grumpily but you can’t hide the fact that your dick stiffens in response.

Your wife notices you getting harder and continues huskily. “Pete and Bob weren’t the only ones looking you know. Sam couldn’t keep his eyes off of them. I didn’t know that I could still have that effect on men.”

“And all you have to do is act a slut,” you say turning to her as she continues working your rod with her hand.

“Well, I’ve been pretty modest my whole life up until now,” she says eyeing you lovingly as she bends over to go down on you.

“Oh shit,” you exclaim with pleasure as she wraps her lips around your shaft and sucks.

She pauses and says. “It really made me wet when Bob fondled my boobs right in front of you. He just grasped them rudely and pinched my nipples while you sat right there.”

“Yeah, I didn’t like that,” you say, but are surprised that your cock gets even harder as she brings it up again.

“Are you sure?” she asks coyly feeling your cock’s reaction.

“Jesus! What are you saying?” you say, avoiding her eyes.

You wife climbs on top of you and slides your throbbing member inside her. It plunges easily into her soaking pussy and you gasp with satisfaction.

“I think you enjoyed that little show tonight,” says your wife as she works herself up and down on your hardon.

You are about to object, but she puts her finger over your lips. “You can’t hide the fact that it aroused you. I think I should invite Bob and Peter over again for another little party. Heck, I should include Sam too from the way he looked at my titties tonight. Maybe I will wear something a little more… intimate.”

“I don’t think…” you start to object.

“Hush,” she says softly. “Maybe I will let them do more than just cop a feel, too,” she says devilishly. And now you are too busy cumming inside her to pretend to complain. She joins you by climaxing herself almost simultaneously, and you wonder how strange it is that this perversion has resurrected your love life.

Your wife gets down on her knees for your rival

continued from “Your wife lets a rival squeeze her tits.”

After that party where you all got drunk and your wife let Bob, your rival from work squeeze her bare boobs, you were surprised at what amazing sex you had with your wife. She realized that her flirting with other guys turned you on. She had joked about inviting them over again but you were surprised when they actually showed up at the door one night.

“Oh, hey guys. I wasn’t expecting you,” you say one night when your friends Pete and Sam show up with a case of beer. Bob is with them and you just glower at him as you let them all in.

“Jennifer said you were having a party tonight,” says Sam with confusion.

“Look Jim, I’m really sorry about what happened last time,” says Bob with an insincere look on his face, holding out his hand to shake.

“Right,” you say tightly, keeping your hands to your sides.

Bob just shrugs and greets your wife. “Hello Jennifer. You look very nice tonight.”

You wife has entered the room wearing a short, low cut dress that shows the tops of thigh high stockings. Her cleavage is hanging out and you notice your guests all looking her up and down from her chest to her shapely legs.

“I’m glad you came, Bob. I hope there are no hard feelings from last time,” says your wife.

“None at all,” he says gazing at her boobs.

“Great, give me a hug then,” she says and then they embrace for a little longer than is appropriate. Bob is running his hands up and down your wife’s back and then gripping her tightly against his body. She looks over his shoulder at you as she hugs him and give you a devilish wink, then she pinches his ass.

“Whoa, easy there.” laughs Bob, slapping your wife on the ass and then releasing her. “Your husband is going to get the wrong impression.”

“Oh, he’s a good sport. He’s doesn’t mind a little harmless flirting.” says your wife giving you a significant look.

Pete and Sam just chuckle nervously and watch your reaction as you press your lips together tightly and glare at Bob with hatred.

You all sit down and start drinking. You have a bad feeling about this. The guys are all checking out your wife’s body and she is giggling flirtatiously and recrossing her legs a lot. It’s turning you on, but you are worried about how far your wife will go.

After everyone has had a few drinks and relaxed a little, Bob gives you a smug smile and says. “You know, Jim, after I felt up your wife’s boobs last time, I was afraid you wouldn’t ever invite me back again.”

“Uh, yeah, let’s put that behind us ok?” says Sam quickly, noting your ire with trepidation.

Pete chimes in. “Come on Sam, don’t make such a big deal about it. Jim’s Ok, right Jim? Just some harmless fun.”

“Well, I think you guys got a little carried away last time, but … yeah. It was harmless I guess,” you say shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

“Oh, don’t lie to your friends, dear. You loved it,” says your wife, slapping you on the knee playfully. “Having other guys pay attention to me reminded him that I might still have a little sex appeal left.”

“Well, well, well. That’s very interesting.” says Bob looking your wife over and rubbing his hands together. “Were you planning on giving him another thrill tonight? That outfit is pretty suggestive.”

You are about to snap a rebuttal when Sam cuts you off. “Now take it easy, Bob,” he says. “I think you’ve got to admit that things did get a little out of hand last time.”

Pete just shakes his head. “Sam, you are acting so holier-than-thou right now. You enjoyed seeing Jennifer’s boobs as much as we did,” he says with a teasing smile.

“Fess up, Sam,” says your wife jiggling her boobs for him slightly.

“Ok, Jenn,” you warn her softly but she just pouts dramatically at you.

‘Shouldn’t I shake my boobs for them?” she asks you innocently.

“Uh, no,” you say, looking at your friends with distrust.

“But didn’t that turn you on a little?” she asks curiously.

“Jenn… can we not talk about this right now?” you say, embarrassment setting in. You can’t believe your wife is putting you on the spot like this.

“Hey Jim, don’t be embarrassed,” Pete tells you good naturedly. “We are all old friends here… well except for you and Bob.” Everyone laughs at that but you just smile ruefully. “But I think it’s probably a common fantasy, wife sharing or whatever. I like it when Susan flirts a little bit.”

“She never let some guy finger her knockers in front of you though, did she?” you blurt out, your heart racing and your member slowly stiffening at the thought in spite of herself.

“No. But that was pretty hot,” he says with a lewd smile.

“Ok, look, I think I see where we stand here,” says Bob standing up. “Jim, you are reluctant about this and probably afraid to come out and admit that your are getting off on it. But it’s clear that your wife wants to play this out a little further, so I am going to help you both out.”

“Oh, yeah, how so?” you ask belligerently.

“Jennifer, would you stand up please?” says Bob.

Your wife gives you a reassuring smile and squeezes your hand before complying. “Ok Bob,” she says standing up and standing in front of him.

“Why don’t you go ahead and take your dress off now?” he says commandingly.

Jennifer starts giggling nervously and looks over her shoulder at you. Your heart is pounding in your ears and your can’t believe that he just came out and said that.

“You can’t just tell my wife what to do!” you yelp.

“I’m just asking,” he says confidently. “Look Jenn, he’s in denial, you are going to need to help him out with this fantasy. Just turn around and I will help you unzip that dress.”

“Oh boy,” says Jennifer. Then she turns to you, “Do you think you could handle this honey?”

“I could handle it,” pipes up Pete excitedly. “Get naked by all means.”

“Jesus, Pete!” complains Sam.

“Well I’m not naked under this, I do have panties on,” says your wife to Pete with a smile.

“But no bra, right?” he says gesturing at her jiggling breasts.

“That’s obvious, isn’t it?” she laughs. “Ok, I know that Jim wants me to do this in his heart but he can’t admit it. Bob had the balls to stand up and ask me to do it. Pete will play along once he’s sauced up enough. But what about you, Sam? I don’t want to freak you out.” She puts her hands on her hips.

“Uh what are you asking?” says Sam licking his lips unconsciously as he ogles your wife’s body, then looking over at you guiltily.

“Do you want me to take my dress off or not?” demands your wife playfully.

“Um, that’s up to you, I guess,” he says, sweat breaking out on his forehead.

“I think I see you getting a stiffy, so I will take that as a yes,” laughs your wife pointing at Sam’s lap.

“Christ, Jenn, are you serious?” you ask, shifting in your seat to hide your own growing boner. This is incredibly erotic, but you just wish Bob wasn’t involved.

“Oh, you’ll be fine,” she says with a dismissive wave. Then she turns her back to Bob unceremoniously and lets him unzip her dress. She looks down at you with her dress unzipped and you can tell she is having second thoughts. You and she share a complex look of guilt, excitement, incrimination, and love. You realize that you will still love her no matter what she does and she seems to sense that.

“Well… take it off,” demands Bob.

“Yes, Bob.” says your wife demurely. Turning to face him and dropping her dress to the floor without further delay. Your wife is standing bare chested in her panties as stockings facing your rival from work while he casually examines her body.

Pete whistles in appreciation and Sam is gasping and gulping at the site of your wife’s bare torso. She does have a wonderful hourglass figure. You are frozen in your chair and don’t know what to do. You cock is throbbing but you also want to jump up and punch Bob in the face. But in some ways this is your wife’s doing, so you just grind your teeth and look on in fascination as your wife exposes her body to your friends.

“Here, turn to the side.” says Bob gently.

Your wife does so and he starts running his rough calloused hands over her soft white belly, then up to her breasts. He pinches her pink nipples slightly, making them stiffen and she looks at him with pursed lips and raised brows, not objecting, just watching his face. He slides his hands back down over her belly, then around to her sides, gripping the tender pale flesh above her hips. She is breathing faster now and the color has come to her cheeks, make her porcelain complexion glow beautifully. Then Bob puts one hand on your wife’s ass and slides the other down the front of her panties. She gasps in arousal and puts her hand over the hand he’s feeling her crotch with.

“You fucker!” you shout and jump to your feet.

“No, no!” says your wife as Bob withdraws his hands from your woman and prepares to defend himself. “Honey, just relax. Sit down,” she says. She is in a state of high arousal and you see both Pete and Sam grabbing their crotches.

“I can’t just sit here and watch this!” you say with animation.

“Yes. You can.” she says, breathing heavily and pushing you back reluctantly back into your seat. “You know you want to see this.” she whispers in your ear. “Let’s do it.”

“Are we cool?” asks Bob, holding his hands up defensively.

“NO!” you say petulantly.

“Yes,” says Jennifer turning back to him with a deep breathe.

“Ok, well, do you want to take your panties off now?” asks Bob looking at your wife’s body hungrily.

“If you say so,” she says submissively. Then she grips her panties by the sides and shimmies them down, bending over to slide them over her hips and down her legs. Pete and Sam are both gaping in amazement at her neatly trimmed bush.

“Turn and show them that ass,” says Bob, gripping his boner through his pants lewdly.

“Ok,” consents your wife. “Do you guys like this?” she asks Pete and Sam, bending over to shake her naked ass at them. They both just stare open mouthed and neither one can say a word.

“My ass left them speechless, dear. Did you see that,” laughs your wife archly.

“Yeah, I see it,” you mumble trying to nurse your own stiffy without attracting attention.

“On your knees, now, please,” says Bob unzipping his fly.

Your wife slowly gets down on her knees and looks up at Bob waiting for his next instruction.

“This is going to far!” you object, but you keep your seat. But Bob and your wife both ignore you.

“I hope no one minds, but I’m going to jerk off now,” says Pete pulling out his cock and stroking it.

Bob pulls his thing out too and puts it right in your wife’s face. She is still looking up at him submissively.

“Do I suck this now?” she asks as the head of his penis brushes her cheek.

“That sounds about right,” says Bob gruffly, his voice thick with lust. Then he takes your wife by the back of the head and pushes his stiff member into her waiting mouth. He grunts with satisfaction as she starts sucking him enthusiastically.

“Oh fuck!” you say in despair, gripping your cock all the while.

“Yeah, she didn’t… need to be asked twice, did she?” stammers Sam looking on in fascination.

“Look how she’s looking up at him.” gasps Pete, fapping away madly. “Like she’s begging him for more.”

“Do you like me, Bob?” asks your wife, pulling his cock from her mouth briefly and looking up at him lovingly.

“Sure, you’ll do,” he says. Then he crams his meat back in her mouth. She resumes sucking with renewed energy and then reaches up and start massaging Bob’s balls. He can’t take much of this and pulls out to shoot a load all over her face. She licks the cum from his head eagerly.

“Look how greedily she licks that cum,” pants Pete, jumping up and approaching your wife. “Sorry, Jenn, do you mind if I blow my wad on you?” he asks desperately.

“Jesus! ok, Pete,” gasps your wife in surprise and within seconds he is shooting his load all over her face. You and Sam just look on mesmerized as Pete further soaks your wife with cum.

“Wow, sorry about that Jim,” he says sheepishly slapping his limp damp phallus against your wife’s cheek playfully.

“Well, I’m not sorry. That was awesome!” says Bob. “I would kiss you Jenny, but I don’t want Pete’s jizz on my mouth. Maybe next time.” Then he zips his trousers up. He comes over to you sitting in your chair and leans over you “I really like the way your wife sucks my cock, so loving, so submissive.” he says with a leer.

And this manages to unfreeze you enough to reflexively smash a fist into his face. He reels back, completely taken by surprise as you stand up as if in a dream. You kick him in the groin smoothly and he goes down on one knee. You reach your arm back to strike another blow, but your wife and Sam restrain you.

Pete has zipped himself up and is helping Bob to his feet. Bob’s lip is fat and bleeding. “Fair enough. Maybe I deserved that. But it was worth it.” he shouts madly with a bloody smile. “Blowing my wad in your fucking wife’s face was worth it.” Pete drags him out the door, shouting apologies over his shoulder.

“Goddamnit, Jim. I was hoping to invite him back to fuck me next time.” shrieks your wife in anger.

Sam turns white at the suggestion and you just slap her numbly right across the face. She grips her stinging cheek in amazement and a tear comes to her eye.

“I can only be pushed so far.” you say shakily. Then you flop back in your chair and put your head in your hands.

Sam mutters his own apologies and lets himself out. Your wife goes to clean up and then returns to the living room and watches you sitting despondently in your chair. After a moment she quietly comes over and lays down on the floor with her legs spread before you, masturbating herself quietly.

“Oh fuck!” you say, looking down at her offering her snatch to you. Then you pull your pants off and climb on top of her. “You win,” you sigh, sliding your stiff member into her hot, waiting pussy.

“Thank you honey, I was so horny from sucking Bob off in front of you, I thought I would burst,” she whispers in your ear as you penetrate her with your throbbing rod.

“You little slut!” you laugh, slapping her thigh playfully. You fuck the shit out of her, pounding her with abandon and she is gasping from an orgasm within minutes. You shoot your own load deep inside her when you feel her cunt tightening around your dick. Then you lay on top of her in exhaustion.

“Do you think Bob would come back to fuck me if we asked him?” she whispers fiendishly in your ear.

“Oh sure, that lip of his will probably only need a stitch or two,” you say and then share a good laugh with your wife.

Gustav Jorgenson’s cuckold stories:
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Hate reading?  Try an audiobook “What’s My Wife Doing With That Guy?” Audiobook

Wife’s Rich Friend Needs Oxytocin

By Gustav Jorgenson

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


“Darling, please don’t throw a fit, but I invited Chad over for dinner tonight,” said my wife, coming into the living room where I sat reading.

“Ah, God no!  You know I hate that guy.”  I looked up from my ipad and glared at my wife.

She recognized my annoyance and hastily rushed over to placate me.  “He’s been broken up with Amanda for almost three months now and he’s terribly lonely, darling!” she said, rubbing my back and looking at me beseechingly.

“That guy is such an effeminate whiner, I just can’t stand him,” I said, shifting in my chair so that my wife could reach my lower back better.  “I worked my way up from the bottom and he always had everything handed to him on a silver platter.  That little prick just exudes privilege.”

My wife noticed that I was enjoyed the back rub and seized the advantage.  She dug her knuckles into my lumbar region, making me moan with relief as she worked away the tension from my long day at work.  “Honey, please, I know you don’t care for Chad, but can’t you be the bigger man?  It’s true that he has had a lot of advantages in life because of his family’s wealth, but things aren’t going well for him now.  He is lonely and hurting and needs to be comforted.”

“Let him get comfort from his piles of money,” I grumbled and my wife broke off rubbing my back with exasperation.

“Money isn’t everything you know,” she said.  “Besides, I already invited him and he will be here any minute, so you will just need to suck it up and play nice.”

I groaned as the doorbell rang and my wife sprinted off eagerly to answer it.

Truth be told, I did feel sorry for the poor schmuck once we sat him down and fixed him a drink.  He truly seemed down in the dumps and even though I didn’t care for him much, I started feeling some sympathy for him.  We had a rather depressing dinner together and consumed several bottles of wine before adjourning to the living room together.

“The worst part is that I miss the oxytocin,” said Chad with a pout and giving my wife a pitiful stare.

“Ah, that’s the hormone that is released with intimate contact?” I asked.

“Yes, well, come here and give me a hug then, silly.  I’ll give you some oxytocin,” said my wife standing up and holding out her arms.

“Ok, but we have to embrace for at least 30 seconds to get the full effect,” he said, jumping up eagerly and wrapping his arms around my wife.

I sat watching, gritting my teeth slightly at the sight of my wife putting her head on Chad’s shoulder while they embraced, bodies pressed close together.  I checked my watch so that I could interrupt if he tried to hold onto my wife for too long.

My wife sighed after a few moments and squeezed Chad more tightly.  “Oh, this does feel good, I feel the oxytocin myself,” she breathed.

“Yes, thank you, Anne, it’s been a long time since I was held,” said Chad, bending down to sniff my wife’s hair.

“Ok, time’s up,” I said, tapping my watch impatiently.  I was feeling a little drunk and the sight of my wife and her friend hugging like this was starting to make me jealous

“Shh, honey, don’t be like that,” she scolded.  “I’m enjoying this too.  You and I should hug like this more often.”  She didn’t release him and they continued standing there before me, arms wrapped tightly around one another as I sat seething.

I noticed Chad subtly thrusting his groin against my wife and her cheeks reddened as she cast me a guilty glance.

“I like this, but we need to have more skin touching to get the full effect,” said Chad, pulling away from my wife and starting to unbutton his shirt.

“What?” gasped my wife in surprise, putting her hand on her chest and looking at Chad with a disbelieving smile.

“Yeah, that sounds pretty inappropriate,” I complained, scratching my cheek as he pulled off his oxford, exposing his bare, hairless chest.

“I’m not getting the full effect of the oxytocin because there isn’t enough skin on skin contact,” Chad snapped at me.  He acted as though it was his god-given right to have skin on skin contact with my wife.  “Anne, please, just take your blouse and skirt off, you can leave your underwear on.”

“Oh, I can, can I?” she laughed.  She shot me a look with a devilish glint in her eye.  “How generous of you.”

“Don’t tease me, Anne, this is a difficult time for me, you know that,” whined Chad, stamping his foot petulantly as he unfastened his belt and started taking his trousers off.  “Here, take your clothes off so we can hug with more skin touching.”

“But what about my husband?” asked my wife, looking back at me with trepidation as she began undoing the front of her blouse.

“What about him?” asked Chad with derision.  “He’s sitting right there watching us, what could possibly go awry?”  Chad pulled his trousers off and folded them neatly on the couch.  When he turned to face my wife again we could see his erect penis sticking straight out, straining against his red briefs.

“My goodness, Chad, you have quire an erection there,” said my wife, gazing at Chad’s preposterous hardon with obvious interest.  

“Well, yes, it’s a perfectly natural reaction for me to become erect,” said Chad reasonably as his phallus bobbed up and down, stretching the fabric of his shorts lewdly.

As though encouraged by the sight of Chad’s siff member, my wife pulled her blouse off half-unbuttoned and wriggled excitedly out of her skirt until she was standing before him in her thin bra and panties.  Plenty of skin was exposed now as Chad and my wife faced each other in their underwear.

“Jesus Christ, Anne, are you really going through with this?” I croaked, utterly scandalized by the turn of events, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

“He needs comfort, darling,” said my wife her eyes never leaving Chad’s priapic bulge.

“You are supposed to comfort me, I’m your husband!” I complained, my own penis growing stiff at the sight of my half-naked wife’s pale, sexy body.

“Of course I comfort you all the time, darling,” said my wife, biting her lip as she stared at Chad’s penis.  “But I can comfort my friends too, can’t I?”

“Look at you, you can’t take your eyes off of his johnson,” I said, feeling an odd sense of arousal at how shamelessly my wife was eyeing her friend’s stiff cock.

“Don’t be selfish, Simon,” snapped Chad irritably.  “Now come here Anne, hug me so that our skin is touching.”

“Oh, but Chad, what are we going to do with this penis of yours?” laughed my wife reaching out as though to grasp his dong before stopping herself self-consciously.  “You are going to skewer me with this thing.”

“Don’t worry about that, it’s fine,” he said wrapping his arms around my wife and pressing himself assertively up against her.

“Ow, oh my, Chad, you are poking me right in my, oh dear,” giggled my wife and she reached down and readjusted his thing before wrapping her arms around him.

“Anne, did you just touch his penis?” I yelped, my pulse pounding in my ears and my own cock painfully erect as I watched my wife embrace her friend in her bra and panties.

“No, I mean, well, yes, just a little, I had to move it a little,” she admitted.  She looked back at me guiltily, her cheeks bright red and her eyes shining with excitement.  “It’s really stiff and it was poking me in the belly,” she said.

“Anne, please, stop wriggling, I’m trying to get some oxytocin here,” commanded Chad.

My wife obediently put her head on his shoulder again and Chad gripped her by her hips and thrust his crotch against her.

“Oh, Chad, you are pushing your thing up against my, my, you know,” murmured my wife urgently.

“I know, I know, shush, this feels good,” said Chad softly.  “Doesn’t this feel good?”

“Yes, it feels good,” admitted my wife and I watched helplessly as my wife’s privileged friend asserted his self-appointed rights to her body and prodded her insistently in the crotch with his hard penis.

“What is he?  Is his penis poking against your, uh, vagina?” I croaked, barely able to breathe as I covered my crotch to hide my own erection.  Why was I getting excited by this?  I should jump up and punch this fellow right in the jaw, but instead I just watched in fascination as my wife squeezed him to her tighter and tighter and his hips thrust against hers more and more insistently.

“What? Oh, well, just a little bit, dear, just a little,” she breathed, nuzzling her face against his neck.  “I tried pushing it to the side, but it seems to have a mind of it’s own.”  Chad grabbed my wife in the small of her back as he ground himself against her.

“Take your bra off now, let’s touch chest to chest,” he grunted imperatively.

“Oh no, Chad, that’s going too far,” said my wife breathily.  But she clung to him limply as he unsnapped the back of her bra.

“Now Chad, this really is beyond the pale.  For a man to take the bra off another man’s wife.  I mean, that simply isn’t done,” I chattered, squeezing the erection in my own pants surreptitiously.

Chad just looked at me coldly for a moment before saying simply, “I have needs, Simon.”  Then he tilted his head down and spoke to my wife,”Take your bra off now Anne, press your bare chest against mine.”

My wife released him from her embrace, shrugged out of her bra and tossed it aside as he commanded.  Her bare back was turned to me as she looked up at Simon while he held her at arm’s length and examined her chest.

“Simon, don’t look,” said my wife, casting a furtive glance back over her shoulder at me as I sat gripping my erection through my pants.

“I’ve never seen your bare breasts before, Anne,” he told her.  “I like them.”

“Well, thank you, Chad that’s nice of you to say, but you are making me feel bashful by the way you are staring at my bosom.  And my gosh, don’t touch yourself, that’s so naughty,” gasped my wife, covering her breasts with her hand coquettishly.

“Why shouldn’t I touch myself, Simon is,” sneered Chad, nodding his head in my direction.

My wife turned in shock to see me fingering the bulge in my pants.  I stopped immediately but she had already seen me.  “Simon, my goodness, don’t do that, what example are you setting?”

“You are standing there topless, rubbing your half naked body up against another man and you try to lecture me?” I croaked.

“I’m just comforting him,” she gasped, wagging a scolding finger at me.  “It isn’t sexual.”

“Of course not, now come press your chest against mine,” demanded Chad, gripping his rod brazenly in one hand.

“Alright Chad, but watch where you stick that thing,” said my wife draping her arms around Chad’s shoulders as he reached back and gripped one of my wife’s ass cheeks and thrust his stiff cock against her crotch aggressively.  “Oh, Chad, you are poking me right in the hoo-ha again,” moaned my wife.

“I know that, it feels good when I do that,” he said simply as he grasped my wife’s ass and humped himself against her.  She clung to him as he prodded her, pressing her bare boobs against his sweaty chest and laying her head on his shoulder in an intimate way that made my blood boil and my cock stiffen at the same time.  I was fighting the urge to unzip my fly and stroke myself as this boorish aristocrat had his way with my woman.  “Doesn’t it feel good?” he asked her tenderly.

“It feels good,” admitted my wife, rubbing her breasts against Chad’s chest for emphasis.  “But you are making me a little, um, you know, aroused,” she whispered.

“I’m sitting right here, Anne, I can hear you clearly,” I told my wife.

“I’m sorry, honey, but he keeps poking the head of his penis against my vulva, and it’s making me wet,” she panted.

“I thought you said this wasn’t sexual,” I demanded.

“Don’t be fatuous, Simon,” snapped Chad, pulling away from my wife and pulling his briefs down impulsively so that his swollen phallus came popping out which made my wife coo with admiration.  “Of course it’s sexual.  I haven’t had sex in three months.  I told you, I have needs, just like any healthy man.  I need sex.”

“Three months isn’t that long actually,” I said, trying to sound reasonable.

“Oh, poor Chad, you are sexually frustrated,” said my wife reaching out to grab his bobbing penis.  “Ooh, I can feel how hard you are, you poor man.  You haven’t been with a woman since Amanda left.”

“Please don’t mention that name to me,” said Chad as he grabbed my wife’s bare shoulders and pushed her gently down until she got the picture and dropped to her knees before him.  “Can you fellate me now?” he asked politely.

“Now see here!” I objected weakly, one hand on my crotch.

“I need to use your wife for sex, Simon, I think you understand,” he told me, nodding at the way I was gripping my own dick.

“But that simply isn’t done,” I squeaked.

“He just needs his penis sucked a little bit, dear,” coaxed my pretty little wife, clearly excited by the prospect of sucking Chad off as she fingered his hairy balls with one hand and stroked his stiff shaft with the other.  “Why he hasn’t had a blowjob in months.”

“That’s true,” he grunted as he pushed his purplish glans into her soft, willing mouth before sighing in pleasure.  My wife immediately began sucking fitfully on his member, tickling his nuts with one hand while gripping one of his ass cheeks with the other.

“Oh, your wife has a sweet, sweet mouth, old man,” he said, putting his hands on my wife’s head as she energetically slurped on his gonads.  “Sorry to make a cuckold of you like this, but perhaps you are enjoying this yourself?”

“No, of course not,” I spat, guiltily trying to hide my arousal.

“No, of course not,” he agreed sarcastically.  “Anne, take your panties off,” he commanded and my guts flipped at how eagerly my wife yanked his drawers off for him.  She was practically jumping out of her clothes for him.  “Go bend over and put your hands on your husband’s knees,” he told her casually, stroking his slick member as she leapt up to do his bidding.

“Honey, are you ok?” my wife asked me with concern as she bent down and presented her ass to Chad.  “My gosh, look how hard you are!” she gasped, unzipping my fly deftly and extracting my own erection.  “Chad!” she yelped suddenly as he entered her from behind.  “Don’t surprise me like that!”

“It was no surprise, I can feel how wet you are.  You’ve been ready for this for a while now,” he glowered, gripping my wife by the hips forcefully as he dogged her from behind.

“Sorry, about this, honey,” my wife apologized, turning to look me in the eyes her her hands on my knees as Chad humped away.  I was distracted by the sight of her luscious breasts swinging back and forth from the impact of Chad’s hips against her rear.  “Here, let me…” she grabbed my dick and started jerking it clumsily as Chad fucked her, but she was clearly distracted and wasn’t paying attention to me.  She reached back with her other hand to fiddle with her clitoris and she bowed her head, concentrating on Chad’s dick as he pounded her with it.  I put my hand over hers so that I could jerk myself more effectively and I nearly came when I realized she was shuddering with a climax brought on by Chad’s prong stabbing in and out of her cunt.

“That a girl, that a girl,” said Chad, patting her on the rump proudly.  “Now take this,” he said gently and I realized he was cumming inside my wife.

“Chad, are you shooting your load inside my woman?” I demanded indignantly.

“Shh, shh,” said Anne, turned her attention back to me and engulfing my penis in her mouth greedily.

“Of course, Simon.  It’s no fun unless I plant my seed into your wife’s fertile womb,” he said lightly, withdrawing his sticky schlong from my wife’s pussy as she sucked my cock, her head bobbing up and down frantically.

“Oh fuck,” I groaned as I emptied my load in her mouth.  She slurped up my own seed hungrily and squeezed my penis until I was fully spent.

“Ok, well, I think I see what kind of arrangement we have here,” he said as he dressed himself.  “Until I find a  woman of my own, I will be using Anne for sex and making a cuckold of you, old boy,” he laughed.  “I suspected you were the type and it looks like my gamble paid off.”

“We have no such arrangement, you cad!” I said half-heartedly.

“Oh, listen to yourself, Simon,” said my wife, patting my cheek affectionately.  “No one believes you, darling.  You haven’t even convinced yourself.”  Then she jumped up and threw her naked body into Chad’s arms as he was preparing to leave.

“Ugh, your face is covered in jizm,” he said with disgust, pushing her away.

“But Chad, when will I see you again?” pled my wife, clearly enamored by her new lover.  She wiped her chin hurriedly as he headed for the door.

“Ah, bring some overnight things to the penthouse tomorrow afternoon,” he said loftily.  “Simon, do you want to come and watch in person or should I just video record it for you to watch later?” he asked languidly.

“Fuck you, Chad,” I spat, watching as my wife gazed into his eyes lovingly.

“Video then, no problem, cheerio all,” he said happily and was gone.

“I wish you wouldn’t swear at him like that dear, it’s rather common of you,” said my wife as she began tidying up the living room in the nude.


Gustav Jorgenson’s cuckold stories:
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Wife Tries Prostitution

By Gustav Jorgenson

Excerpted from “Slut Wife, Happy Life

My wife Vera and I were driving home from the bar one weekend night and as we approached the on ramp she noticed a pair of young women loitering there under the overpass.  

“Harold, look at those women!  I think they are prostitutes,” gasped Vera craning her neck and slowing the car.  She always insists on driving. That’s just how she is.

I scratched my cheek nervously as I looked the women over.  They weren’t really dressed the way I imagined prostitutes to dress.  They  weren’t wearing garters or stockings or anything, just simple sweatpants and halter tops.  But it was strange to see two unaccompanied young women hanging out in this dark deserted place.  “I don’t think so honey,” I said skeptically.

Vera got that devilish look in her eye that she always gets when she wants to tease me.  “I’m telling you, Harry, these are real prostitutes.  Do you want me to hire one for you?  What would you prefer, a handjob or a blowjob?”  My wife cackled with drunken laughter as she pulled the car over near the women and rolled her window down.

I just shook my head and tisked dismissively but my stomach dropped when both girls eagerly came forward and leaned in the window.

“Hey mama, wazzup?  You like to party?” asked one of the girls.  She was a white girl with an inch of dark roots showing beneath her poorly bleached and frizzy hairdo.  Her makeup was simply atrocious.  Her blue eyeliner made her look like a clown.

Vera giggled with excitement.  “How much for a blowjob for my husband?”

“Vera!” I gasped in shock.  I couldn’t believe she was doing this.

“Ten dollars,” put in the other girl with a shrug.  She was hispanic or maybe part black with huge lips and a mass of black curly hair.

“For 15$ we could both suck it,” offered the white girl.  She looked at her companion and rubbed her nose.

“Sure,” agreed the darker girl giving me a coldly calculating stare.  “That guy don’t look like he would take too long.”

Vera broke out laughing as my face burned with shame.  “You’ve got that right, girl.  You’ve got that right for sure.  He’ll probably cum before you get his peter out of his pants.”

“Vera stop it!” I choked.  I didn’t appreciate being humiliated in front of street whores like this.

“She’s got your number, Harry, you can’t deny it.  She has the eye of a professional,” said my wife.  She rummaged in her purse and pulled out a twenty.  “Here, all I have is a twenty,” said my wife, handing over the bill to the brown girl.

“We can make change,” said the white girl.  She hurriedly reached down the front of her shit and pulled out a wad of cash.

“No no, you can keep the change,” said my wife.  She eyed the woman’s wad as the whores traded a ten for the twenty so they could split the loot.  “That’s quite a take, did you make that all tonight?”

The white girl flashed her roll of bills proudly.  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”  Then she tucked the cash back between her breasts.

“I would like to know, I think this is all very fascinating.  Do you have a pimp?”  My wife’s eyes were shining with excitement.

The girls exchanged a worried glance but said nothing.

“What’s the matter?  Are you afraid we are police?  I assure we aren’t,” said my wife with concern.  “I’m just curious.”

“Ah no, mama, we know all the police, that’s cool,” said the hispanic girl.  “We just don’t like to talk too much, you know.  We just do our thing and you can split.”

“Whatever, Yo-yo, she’s cool, I can tell,” said the white girl.  She turned chattily to my wife.  “Down here, we don’t need no pimp.  This is po-po’s corner, so we just pay our tax and we cool.”

I was confused for a moment as parsed out her meaning. “You don’t mean that you pay the police?!” I gasped when I finally understood her.

“He’s pretty stupid, huh?” the hispanic girl asked my wife.

“Well, yes, about some things,” admitted my wife.  She turned to face me.  “You must have seen the news about police corruption in Oakland, haven’t you dear?”

“Let’s just suck this dude off and get on with it,” sighed the hispanic girl.  And the two young women came around to my side of the car while my wife rolled down my window.

“You can’t be serious about this!” I objected to my wife.

“Oh, stop being such a prude,” admonished my wife.  “Why I think this will be incredibly exciting.  Most husbands would jump at the chance to get their penis sucked by a strange woman after 20 years of marriage to the same old bag.”

“You’re no old bag and you know it,” I said.

“What’s the matter, poppi?  Don’t you like boobies?” asked the hispanic girl.  And then she lifted up her shirt and stuck her brown nipples right in my face.

It was pretty shocking.  I had these big round, soft, brown breasts smushed into my face while the girl giggled.  She grabbed the back of my head to keep my face pressed against her chest while the white girl leaned her whole torso into the car and and started unzipping my fly.

“He’s hard already,” said the white girl with satisfaction as she extracted my penis.  “Not much more than a mouthful though,” she joked and my wife laughed along.

“Mmmph,” I complained, but I couldn’t see anything with the big brown titties in my face.

I felt the white girl’s hot wet mouth on the tip of my cock and I nearly came right then.  It was pretty kinky.

“Here, hold her boobs honey, that will help you,” coaxed my wife and she took my hands and put the white girls exposed breasts into the palm of my hands while the whore sucked me harder and harder.  I have to admit, it was more than I could take and I immediately climaxed, spurting my modest load into the girl’s greedy mouth.

“Wow, that’s it?” giggled the girl.  The brown boobs were removed from my face and the white girl opened her mouth to show my wife the cum on her tongue before turning and spitting it out on the road.  She and her pal had their tits tucked away in a jiffy and started walking away, laughing as they went.

“Wow, that was hot,” panted my wife.  I noticed that she had her skirt bunched up around her waist and was touching herself.  “I’m going to get a lot of mileage out of this during my nightly rub session.”

“I feel… odd,” I said as I wiped my limp penis off with my handkerchief.

“I want to try that,” said my wife hoarsely.  Her cheeks were flushed.

“What, suck my penis?” I asked nervously.  It was still tender.  “I need time to recover, dear.”

“No, you fool, the hooking, the prostitution,” she said watching the girls as they resumed their positions on the corner.  “To just pleasure a complete stranger for cash and then walk away.  That was a fantasy of mine when I was a young girl.”

“Come on,” I chortled.  “Now you are really going too far.”

“Oh, please, you are such a milquetoast sometimes.  Where is your sense of adventure?  Wouldn’t you find it kinky to watch me sucking off some random guy in his car for a ten dollar bill?  It would be simply WILD!”

“You’ve clearly lost your mind.”

“Oh my god, our sex life has gotten so BOOORING!  I’m sick of it.  We need to spice things up a little.  Here, give me your wallet, I want to buy some information from these girls.”

I reluctantly offered up my billfold and Vera snatched it from my hand.  She jumped out of the car and walked purposefully toward the two prostitutes.  I got out myself and followed, hoping in vain to talk some sense into my lustful wife.

“No refunds!” said the hispanic girl as my wife approached.

“No, no, everything was fine, I just want to ask you two some questions,” said Vera.  She held up my wallet invitingly.

“Bitch, I’m here to work, not to gab,” sneered the brown girl.  I could tell she didn’t like my wife.

A beat up pickup truck pulled over and a brown faced mexican fellow leaned out his window and whistled at the girls.  The hispanic girl went running to greet him, but the white girl hesitated.  She bit her lip and looked back and forth between my wife and the John.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” assured my wife.  She pulled out a couple of twenties and the white girl’s eyes went wide.

“Holy shit, mama, I’d eat your snatch for that much, and I don’t even go that way,” gasped the girl taking the money and tucking it away quickly.

“Uh, no,” said my wife.  “I’m not interested in that.  I just want to know how this all works.  How do I turn tricks?”

The white whore laughed in her face.  “The fuck you talking about, lady?”

“What’s the matter, do you think I’m too old?” asked my wife.  She pulled at her temples self-consciously like she does at home when she contemplated getting a facelift.

The white girl looked confused.  “No, I mean, you look better than half the bitches out here who half your age, you got that tits and ass too,  but it’s just….” The girl wrinkled her brow.  “You a classy lady.  You got a husband…”

“You saw my husband’s dick,” laughed my wife.

“Hey now!” I complained.  But it was hard to be angry since I was still experiencing that post-orgasm glow from all the boobs and sucking I had been given.

“Well you got a nice car,” objected the girl.

“It’s not for the money,” explained my wife.  “I need excitement in my life.”

“Bitch, you crazy,” laughed the white girl.  “You think this shit is EXCITING?  Sucking some smelly old nutsacks for a ten?”

“Ahh, ahh,” cried the mexican in the truck and I turned to see the brown girl bouncing up and down on his lap in the cab of his truck.

“Just watching her is making me wet,” said my wife.

We all turned and watched as the brown girl brought her trick to climax and then she deftly slipped out of the truck and pulled her sweatpants back up.  He John was smiling groggily as he put the truck in gear and pulled away.

“Jose make me work it tonight,” said the hispanic girl, rubbing her rump ruefully.  “Why this crazy white bitch still here?”

“She so crazy, she wants to turn some tricks for fun,” said the white girl pointing to my wife.

The hispanic girl looked my wife over critically.  “Turn around,” she commanded.

My wife turned and showed her rear to the saucy young whore.

“Damn she got some ass,” admitted the harlot.  “But you can’t whore in that office outfit.  You need easy access, hoe!”  She pulled her waistband with a snap.

“Oh, so that’s why you wear the sweatpants,” said my wife thoughtfully.  “It’s not very flattering, though.”

“These niggas that come down here for pussy don’t give two fucks for flattering,” laughed the hispanic girl.

“Ok, but I don’t want to go home and change, I might lose my nerve,” said my wife, biting her lip.

“Come on, this is preposterous,” I said.  I took my wife by the elbow and tried to lead her back to the car but she dug in her heels and slapped my hand away.

“Get your hands off me, Harold.  I am DOING this,” hissed my wife.  She was angry enough to make me recoil in shock.  “You haven’t satisfied me in the bedroom in YEARS!”

“Vera you are drunk,” I sighed.

“Yes, I am,” she admitted.  “But I wouldn’t have the guts to try this sober.  Now will you just calm down and let me do this?  It’s an experiment.  It might save our sex life.  You owe it to me.”  She was on the verge of tears at this point and I honestly felt guilty for my lack of sexual prowess.

So I sighed and rolled my eyes.  “Ok, ok, you will probably chicken out if you actually get propositioned anyway.”

Vera hugged me and turned to the white girl.  “Ok, now what do I do?  Do we just wait for the next customer?  What do I say?  This is so exciting!”

“Look, let me do the talking.  We’ll tell the tricks that hubby is your pimp if anyone asks,” said the pale girl with her clownish makeup.  She held her finger up and then went and rummaged in a crumpled paper bag sitting by one of the freeway support pylons.  When she came back, she was holding a handgun.  I nearly jumped at the sight of it, but she came right over to me and stuck it in the waistband of my pants.

“Is this really necessary?” I gasped.  Things were getting a little more serious than I hoped.

“Try not to piss yourself, but things can get a little sketchy down here,” said the young whore.  She pulled my jacket closed and patted me on the cheek condescendingly.

“Oh look, it’s El Hefe and and a couple of his boys!” shouted the brown whore excitedly.  “El Hefe might like a shot at a rich lady for once.”  A king cab pickup full of Mexicans pulled up to curb and a jolly looking fellow with fat face and sparkling eyes leaned out the driver’s side window.

“Que pasa, bitches?  You busy?” shouted El Hefe.

“Let me handle this, Yo-Yo,” hissed the white girl to her friend.  Then she motioned for El Hefe to get out and join us on the sidewalk.

The fat man obliged, climbing out and hitching up his jeans clumsily as he ambled over.  A couple of his pals jumped out as well.  They looked like a landscaping crew from the way they were covered in dirt.

“Wazzup Hefe, we gots a new girl for you tonight.  She a classy callgirl fallen on hard times, needs to make a quick buck,” said the white girl motioning to my wife.

Vera blushed and waved at the men bashfully.

“For reals?” asked El Hefe skeptically.  “She sure don’t look like no whore.”

“A callgirl don’t have to dress like a whore, dumbass,” the brown girl told him.  His pals broke out laughing at the insult, but Hefe just smiled good naturedly.

“And who that, then?” he asked, pointing to me.

“That’s her pimp,” said the white girl confidently.  All the men broke out laughing again.

“I slap down that little bald white man with a quickness,” chuckled El Hefe.

“He’s packing,” sniffed the brown girl.

“Yes, I’m afraid I am,” I told the crew leader.  I opened my jacket and smiled at the Mexicans with embarrassment as I showed them the firearm in my waistband.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” said El Hefe in amazement.  “What you all trying to pull, Yo-Yo?”

“Ask Sheila!” said Yo-Yo, pointing to the white girl.

“Come on now Hefe,” said Sheila.  She took my wife by the hand and lead her closer to the landscapers.  “When’s the last time you had a crack at some fine ass pussy like this?  Show them your titties, mama.”

My wife blanched at the suggestion, but then she smiled nervously and started fumbling with the buttons of her silk blouse.  The Mexicans looked on hungrily as my wife got her blouse undone and pulled it open to show them her bosoms encased in her lacy white bra.

“She real fancy,” admitted El Hefe, fingering his crotch.  “Take the bra off, let’s see them bad boys.”

Vera gave me a look of trepidation, but I just shrugged nonchalantly.  The gun was making me feel powerful and I was relishing my wife’s chagrin.

Sheila wasn’t allowing any hesitation though and she effortlessly unhooked the front of my wife’s bra and let her pale white orbs spill out.  The crew was delighted and started giving catcalls and shouts of arousal.

“Look at these nice pink nipples, Hefe,” said Sheila, talking up my wife’s goods.  “They look tasty, right?”

“Yeah,” said Hefe. His mouth was hanging open as he and his pals ogled my wife’s bare chest and I could feel my member swelling in my pants at the sight.  I never thought I would be aroused to see my wife put on display for manual laborers under an overpass, but it really was kinky.

“Now show them that ass, mama,” coaxed Sheila, turning my wife around brusquely and lifting her skirt.

“Oh boy,” said my wife.  She was facing me with her rear pointed at the landscapers when her eyes widened in shock as Sheila pulled her panties right down to her ankles.  The Mexicans gave a fresh shout of appreciation and Yo-Yo was tittering into her hand.

“Yeah, I’ll tap that,  how much?” said Hefe, stepping forward and unzipping his fly.

“One hundred dollars!” shouted Sheila triumphantly.

“Get the fuck outa here!” cried Hefe.  He was frozen in his tracks with his stiff prick in his hand.

“Don’t you think I’m worth it?” asked my wife with a pout as she wiggled her bare round rump at the chubby Mexican man.  She was starting to get into the swing of things now.

“Baby, you clean, but a hundred dollars buys a LOT of skanky pussy,” said Hefe.  He was absently stroking his rod as he admired my wife’s naked ass.

“I ain’t that skanky, Hefe,” complained Yo-Yo stamping her foot.  She was clearly jealous of the impression my wife was making.

“Lookit this pink,” said Sheila.  My wife gasped again as the brazen white whore reached down and actually spread Vera’s labia so that the Mexicans could see the pink of her vagina.  Sheila hesitated.  “She’ll do two for that much.”

“I will?” asked Vera.

“Yeah, it’ll be fine, don’t worry,” whispered Sheila.  

The mexicans were conferring amongst themselves now, pooling their cash.  A moment later Hefe and a tall skinny fellow with bad acne stepped forward with a fistful of bills.  Sheila snatched the dough and then stepped aside.  “Have at her,” she said with a flourish.

Hefe practically pounced on my wife from behind.  He prodded her right in the ass with his stiff dong and gripped her bare boobs in his hands while he gnawed hungrily on Vera’s long white neck.  She cried out in surprise and then started whimpering and moaning in passion as the burly Mexican pinched her stiff nipples with his rough calloused fingers.  The tall fellow came around in front of my wife and bashfully unzipped his pants.  Vera gaped in amazement at the size of the erection that came popping out.  It was truly a massive piece of meat, but the poor fellow really seemed embarrassed as he asked my wife to suck it for him.

My own erection was stiff again as I watched Hefe bend my wife over so he could insert his cock into her from behind while the tall guy put his huge swinging dong in front of her face.  Vera grabbing that big tool and wasted no time getting it into her mouth.  She started sucking and slurping on it hungrily, making little moans and humming back in her throat with pleasure.  Meanwhile Hefe with sweat pouring down his face, was gripping my wife’s hips so hard his knuckles were turning white as he pumped away, dogging her from behind.  I pulled out my own meager pecker.  I didn’t care about anything at that point.  I started stroking it shamelessly as I watched my wife being violated by these peasants.  It was very arousing.

The tall mexican bent down to cup my wife’s swinging udders in his hands and it helped him cum.  He pulled his thing out of my wife’s mouth and blew his wad all over her face, spurt after hot spurt, coating her cheeks with cum as she licked his head hungrily, coaxing him on.  A moment later Hefe gave a loud grunt and ground himself desperately as he clung to my wife’s ample rear.  He looked like a little chihuahua humping a fine poodle as he emptied his load into my tall graceful wife from behind.   

The sight of the little brown man pumping his sperm into my wife made me cum again, but I didn’t have much left since I had just ejaculated minutes before, so there was only a tiny dribble.  Still it was satisfying.  I actually felt really elated to see my haughty wife brought so low, fucked like a common street whore.   The Mexicans, for their part, edged awkwardly away and climbed back into their truck and were gone without further adieu.

“Oh my gosh, that was fucking intense,” panted my wife as he dabbed at the jizm on her face.  “I came like three times, Harry!  Did you see the size of that boy’s cock?  It was amazing! I couldn’t get enough.”  My wife was struggling to get her panties pulled back up.  So I went and helped her arrange herself, pulling her skirt back down as she wrangled her big boobs together and got them back inside her bra.

“I think I should get a cut,” said Sheila, handing my wife back a portion of the bills. “Twenty percent!”

“That’s fine, dear,” said my wife.  “You can keep it.”

“No bitch, you EARNED that shit,” insisted Sheila, thrusting the bills toward my wife.

“Well, then, give that to my pimp,” laughed my wife.  Vera was taken aback by the girl’s intensity.  

Sheila gave me the damp bills and I gave her back her gun which she quickly re-deposited in the shopping bag a few yards away.

“My first ill-gotten gains,” chuckled my wife as we headed back to the car.

“Pleasure doing business with you, mama!” Sheila called, waving gayly.  “Come back anytime you want to earn some cash.”

And my wife did too.  Every couple of weeks she would get drunk and we would go sell her ass under the overpass with Sheila and her compatriots.  We started to think of it as a public service as well when we convinced Yo-Yo to re-enroll in community college and got Sheila into a meth rehab program.  Our sex life improved dramatically as well.  I found it incredibly arousing to re-imagine my wife’s whorish exploits as we had sex in our own bed.

Of course there were some disturbing moments as well.  That time when Vera had to service six corrupt policemen at gunpoint was pretty terrifying for me.  Though she claimed that she had more orgasms that night than ever before.  Also, I did find it pretty humiliating the week when my rival from work showed up and took my wife away to fuck at his apartment with several of his goonish pals.   And really, posting those pictures on Facebook was really gauche on his part, I must say.  Still, overall, my wife’s prostitution experiment has proven to be a stunning success.

Gustav Jorgenson’s cuckold stories:
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