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My wife, Claire, and I had been married for 10 years. We were in what I thought was a normal happily married relationship and, although our sex life was not as plentiful as it had been in the first few years we both seemed to be happy and reasonably satisfied with our lot. This didn’t mean that we did not occasionally fantasize and share our erotic thoughts with each other as we made love.
I had fantasized about her being taken by another man. On more than one occasion as I rubbed my cock on her labia in anticipation of entry into her vulva, I would whispered in her ear: “I wonder if you would take another man’s cock here?” She would sigh, and I never knew whether it was a sigh of exacerbation or one of desire. “Would you like that?” she once asked in a whisper as she took hold of my cock and kissed my neck. As I pushed my cock inside her she continued: “Yes, I would take another man’s cock for you.”
Claire knew that I had submitted various stories to Literotica. She had read them all, commented happily and had not got upset that many of them involved wife sharing. Some also involved a male sub being subjected to domination and beatings. She often smiled as she read the stories, and it excited me to know that she knew that the wives in the stories were based on her and that the sub male was me.
We both knew that the stories were fiction. But the fantasizing gave us both a certain amount of pleasure. I received some interesting feedback from readers; some comments were vitriolic, vindictive and crude. I could never understand why people who had such strong convictions against published stories felt obliged to read and comment on them in such a disparaging way under the cloak of anonymity. If they hated the stories so much why read and comment on them? Alternatively, if they felt that comment was necessary, why couldn’t they have the guts to write an email to the author giving him or her the chance to respond.
But there were also helpful comments from readers, and even a few complimentary ones. Some comments were short and to the point and others in an email were more protracted.
After I had submitted ‘Claire Needs to Prepare’, which involved a wife shared and some BDSM, I got many such comments. One was particularly interesting.
John Strong in his email said that he had enjoyed the story and how he felt that my wife in the story, Claire, had ‘deserved a good seeing to’.
I replied by email thanking him for his comment. I went on to explain that it was always helpful to hear from readers who made useful suggestions as to how the stories could be improved or developed further.
I was a bit surprised to receive a response from him:
“I am not sure if Claire is your real wife but I would love to meet her. I see that we live close to each other so if you really play let me know.”
I pondered this and have to admit that I was turned on by it. Although Claire and I had fantasized about her being taken by another man, we had never played and I could not envisage her willing to do so. But you never know; and here was an offer. This was the first time that reality had become a chance. I read it again and again in an aroused state.
I replied to John, explaining that my stories were fiction; had they not been, I continued, I would certainly have considered bringing Claire to meet him; but the stories were not of real experiences. I did not explain that the character, Claire, was based on my wife and that this was her true name. I thought that he would loose interest but I soon got a reply from him
“Claire seems so real? Is she your wife? Send me a photo of your wife. I need to see her.”
This was getting to be quite a turn on. I thought that it would be fun to indulge him. I searched through the pictures on my lap top finding the one I was looking for. It showed Claire in a plain white bikini on a beach in Italy. She was standing with her feet apart half turned towards the camera and smiling. She had just come out of the water and was covered in droplets. You could just make out her pink flesh through the wet opaque material. The angle of her body was such that her generous self supported breasts were well defined. What I really liked about this photo was the fact that her nipples showed through the fabric and, because her legs were apart, the prominent mound of her vagina was clearly defined. I loved this picture and now I wanted to share it with him. I cropped her face off and sent the photo to him. This time I wasn’t surprised to get a reply.
“Oh, so hot! Bring her to me to fuck in front of you – give me a real hot wife any day – and you can be as cucky as you desire as bullying a cuck is all part of my fun. The riding crop could be put to good use!”
(The riding crop had been in the story, ‘Clare Needs to Prepare’, which he had commented upon, and had been used on the cuckold husband (me?). My heart pounded as I read the email. My hand was shaking on the key board. With the other Ataşehir Escort hand I felt my cock; it was hard. Wow! This was so erotic. I shivered as I imagined him poring over the titillating photo of my well developed wife. I re-read the message again and again. My God.
One part of me thought that this had gone too far. My inclination was to stop it now. But, I wondered how Claire would react if she saw this?
Two days later I had not replied nor had I approached Claire. I got another email from him.
“Cuck, Send me another photo for me to wank over soon.”
The time had come to finish this silly, but erotic, correspondence. But what would Clair’s reaction be?
That evening after supper I told Claire that I had received some emails from a chap who had read one of my stories on Literotica. She was curious and asked to see them. After reading the exchange of emails she was furious. How dare I share a revealing picture of her with some unknown man without consulting her. The evening ended on a bad note and we went to bed in silence.
Her anger lasted the next morning and I was glad to get out of the house to get to work. On my return in the evening she had calmed down. That evening after supper we took our wine into the sitting room. She sat on the sofa and I sat opposite in a chair. Slowly and thoughtfully she said: “You do realize that this unknown man, calling himself James Strong, has been masturbating over a photo of your wife showing her nipples?”
“Yes, I am truly sorry.”
“Come and sit beside me.” I got up and sat next to her on the sofa. She hit me gently in the chest and said: “At least you used a flattering picture.”
“Flattering?” I queried. “You are gorgeous in it.”
“It doesn’t leave much to the imagination though.”
I put my arm around her and kissed her. She responded by kissing me back hungrily. The ice had melted! “Do you want to send him another photo?” She asked cheekily.
“Well, that’s really up to you.” I replied as I rubbed her breasts.
“No harm in a photo I suppose.” She said. “I find it exciting to think of another man going hard and ejaculating over a photo of my body.” She kissed me on the lips. I tweaked a nipple. She gasped. I knew that she loved her nipples squeezed and twisted.
I put her hand on my cock which was getting firm within my trousers. “It excites me also.” We continued kissing.
“Well, let’s give Mr Strong what he wants,” she whispered in my ear as she gripped my cock.
Between kisses I told her that I didn’t have any erotic photos of her. “He would obviously need some sexy poses.” I said as my hand disappeared below her skirt to her pant covered vagina.
“Would you like to take some sexy shots of me?” She asked me.
I kissed her tenderly. My fingers continued their exercise. “That would be a good idea,” I replied. “We will get busy with the camera tomorrow.” We were both undressed and were soon making violent love on the floor.
On Saturday morning we had great fun in the bedroom as I took several sensual photos of Claire. Together we selected a good one to send. In it Claire was sitting cross legged in the centre of the bed dressed in a white blouse which was fully open showing both breasts. She was looking down at a book resting in her lap and covering her vagina. Her right hand was on the book and the fingers of her left were gently teasing her left nipple. Both nipples, which had been aroused by me before the photo was taken, were sticking out and hard. She looked to be fully concentrating on the book. Claire’s face was blanked out.
CIaire was flattered that you liked the photo of her in her bikini. You asked for another photo. We posed this especially. I hope that it will give you much pleasure!
Best wishes, Cuck.”
The reply arrived within the hour. Claire read it first as she sat in front of the lap top. She summoned me over to read it over her shoulder.
“Oh God, She looks so good. Cuck, I will fuck her so hard? Show me more!
No messing about. Straight to the point I thought. I was hard as I read the email as I stood behind her. This man means business.
Claire shuddered. She was breathing hard. “Let’s not do anything rash,” she said.
That night in bed as I gently stroked her vagina, I told Claire that I didn’t think that we should continue our emails with Mr Strong. He was too crude, was obviously rough and was not the sort of guy we would want to mix with, let alone have sexual contact with. “In any case,”I continued, “we would need to get to know any potential sexual partner socially before we embarked on any activity.”
Claire thought about this. Her breathing quickened, but whether this was as a result of my ministrations or her thinking about Mr Strong, I was not sure. “Well,” she said at last, “in some ways you are right. But it is an enormous turn on to take on Kadıköy Escort the unexpected! It adds to the mystery and the excitement.” She paused. “I know that your are excited by imagining him having sex with me.”
Oh, God. She was so right. The rougher and harder the better for my precious Claire. I really wanted to see her taken roughly and forcibly with a good sized hard cock.
I slipped two fingers into her; her breathing quickened. “You want a big one…….. You want it rough…… You want it hard. Don’t you?” I was fully charged myself and ready to come.
I pushed my fingers in firmly, as far as they would go. “Oh, yes,” she told me. “Yes. I do.”
“You want to encourage him then?” I asked her.
She shuddered. “Yes. Send him the photo you took of my vagina.” I kissed her lips. I got on top of her and entered her. But I came within moments. It was all over too quickly.
In the photo Claire referred to she was completely naked. She stood looking directly into the camera with her left leg on a chair. Her vagina was fully visible. I had prepared her by rubbing her vagina with soapy water so it was wet, smarmy and glistening with droplets. Her right hand held one breast and the fingers of her left hand held open the entrance of her dripping vulva.
I sent it to our new found friend, ‘The Bull’, with a covering email just saying: ” Is this what you want to see?” This time I did not blank out her face. It was too lovely to conceal. “It gives him a message, darling,” I told her.
“Yes, I know.” She turned and looked at me taking one of my hands and placing it on her breast. I kissed her on the lips. She responded hungrily. “We’re going through with this aren’t we?”
I kissed her. “Yes.” I said.
Fifteen minutes later his reply was blunt:
“The cunt needs stuffing with a hard cock from the Bull. She will love it. Cuck, arrange a meeting place. Would you want to be there to watch? Tell me where and when.
And show her this.
She opened up the attached picture on her lap top. It showed a dark large hard cock with the foreskin pulled back. The big bulb at the head was smooth and purple while the shaft of the cock was broad and well veined. It was completely stiff with a gentle curve up. It was a good size but there was nothing else in the picture with which to compare. We both gasped. “Wow,” she said. She studied the photo. “It’s very long and dark. Very mysterious.”
I was worried. I was concerned that we were getting such explicit emails from another man, we did not even know. But what was even more worrying was that Claire was getting such an uplift from the messages. We both read and re-read all the messages and studied the pictures. We were both soon touching each other and within minutes were on the sofa making love. In our post coital hugs Claire and I discussed the options openly. At last she decided that, with my agreement, she did want to meet James, the”bull”, and yes, she did want me to be there. She was enormously aroused.
I sent him an email explaining that I would book a room in the Marriott Hotel, probably the best hotel in our local city. He replied explaining that he was not interested in meeting socially beforehand, nor did he want drinks in a bar nor meeting for a meal. He was not interested in small talk, nor shaking hands, nor getting to know each other. This was not about courting, nor lovemaking, nor seduction. What this was about, he explained, was a real “bull” dominating us both, cuckolding me and ‘hard fucking’ my lovely wife in front of me with a well endowed cock! No doubt about that then!
Claire gasped as she read these messages. I was rampant. I really wanted this to happen and looked forward to looking after Claire as she prepared to take a good cock.
We agreed a date and that he would arrive at 5.00pm. I would text him the room number shortly before this. On the morning we were to meet he sent his final instruction to Claire:
“Claire, Let your husband get you ready. Be on the bed naked on all fours. Wear a blindfold. Head in the pillows. No talking, no kissing, no pleasantries, no condom; just be ready, buttocks up, for the bare back fuck I am going to give you.”
“Oh my God, he is going to come inside me without a condom.”
“Yes,” I told her. “Yes he is, and it looks as if there will be no foreplay either.”
“Oh, God, that could hurt me.”
“Don’t worry darling, I will bring some lubricating jelly. We will make sure that you are well prepared.”
On Friday afternoon Claire was driving us towards the city. We did not talk. We were both on edge. Claire was dressed in a simple wrap around skirt. She had on a pretty flowery top with a scooped neckline which showed off her cleavage well. The blouse was made of a thin material and her white bra was visible beneath it. She had asked my advice as to what to wear and I had explained that it did Bostancı Escort not matter as our new friend was not going to see her clothed. But she looked lovely and sexy as she drove.
“Are you OK?” I asked her.
“Nervous,” she replied. She gave a little shudder.
“Yes, so am I.” I put my hand on her knee. “Are you excited.?”
She sighed deeply. She was gripping the steering wheel tightly. Her knuckles were white. “Oh, God,” she croaked.
My hand went up her dress and felt her panties. Her legs parted.
“He was pretty explicit as to how he expects you to be when he comes into the room.”
“Yes. And I have to cover my eyes so I can not see him. Have you got the blindfold?”
“Yes. I think that he wants to surprise you. He says that he is going to fuck you hard.”
“Yes, I know,” she gasped. My hand had found the wetness of her vagina. Her panties were soaking. “And you will be watching.” She looked across at me and smiled as she saw me stroking my cock through my trousers with my other hand.
We parked the car and booked in. I explained to the receptionist that Mr James Strong would be visiting us at 5.00pm and that he should be shown up to our room. It was now 4.15pm so we did not have a lot of time.
The room was magnificent. It was large and comfortable with a spacious en suite bathroom. The view of the city through the large windows was breathtaking. But we had no time for that. I noticed that the bed was enormous.
We were both nervous and said little to each other. Claire went into the bathroom. I rummaged in the room bar and found a bottle of champagne. I poured two glasses. I looked at the bed and pulled off all the bedding leaving just the bottom sheet; I placed all the pillows, except two, on top of each other at the foot of the bed.
Claire came out of the bathroom and took a gulp from the glass I gave her. She looked gorgeous. I took the glass from her hand, placed it on a table and kissed her lips. Without saying a word I took off her blouse and bra. I gave her back her glass and she downed the champagne in one. I refilled it. I removed her skirt and slipped her panties to the floor. She kicked them free. I picked them up. They were soaking. I smelt the pungent aroma. I put her clothes on a chair.
I took her in my arms, looked into her eyes and told her that we could stop this now should she wish; but once I had sent him the text message with the room number we could not stop it.
She took a gulp of her drink. “Now that we have got this far, we need to put away fantasies and experience them,” she replied as she kissed me.
She sat at the end of the bed as I sent James the text: ‘Room 434.’ We were now committed.
“Quick, he will be here soon,” I told her. I got the blindfold from my pocket and arranged it over her eyes. I kissed her. She was shivering as she knelt on the edge of the bed and I made her bend over the stack of pillows. I extracted two pillows for her to rest her head and arms and pushed her shoulders down so her head was deep in the pillows. I eased her legs as far apart as they would comfortably go. Her pussy was now fully exposed to anyone walking into the room. It was also at the correct height. I put my mouth to her vagina, knowing that this was where he would be penetrating her soon. I licked heavily, thereby adding to the her wetness. But I need not have bothered as she was excreting her own juices sufficiently. To be sure I took the tube of lubricant and squirted a good sized dollop on to her bottom. I smoothed this cream over her buttocks and down into her vagina. I inserted two fingers into her ensuring that the whole area of her vagina was well lubricated. I then put another dollop in the crack between the cheeks of her bottom concentrating on her anus. I inserted my middle finger up to the knuckle. “Just in case,” I told her. She gasped.
“Oh, no. But we have never……” She left the sentence unfinished. There was no need to complete it. I knew.
“Well you never know, darling. He might want this.” I pushed the finger deeper.
“Oh….. oh…. My God.”
I pulled out my finger. She sighed again. Finally I took a bit more lubricant and smeared it over her hanging breasts concentrating on the nipples. I gave them both a pull, rubbing the oil into her skin. My cock was hard. I touched it through my trousers with one hand as I pocketed the lubricant. She was now ready. The room was silent except for our heavy breathing. The scene was so erotic. I looked at my lovely wife. God, she looked good.
The knock was as loud as a pistol shot. We both jumped. My hands started shaking as I stood. I looked at Claire. She hid her face deeper in the pillows. As a last gesture I pressed down on the small of her back thus making her raise her buttocks. I gave them a final gentle caress.
There was a second loud knock. I went to the door, opened it.
James Strong, the man we had got to know through emails, was a black man! As black as any man I had ever seen.
He was about six foot tall, with broad shoulders. He was about fifty years old and looked to be in good physical shape. He was dressed in a smart polo shirt with an open neck and smart summer light-weight trousers.
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